Righting Wrongs
by WalkingWit
Summary: Proper sequel to Regrets. They have another chance at bringing peace to Camelot, and they were promised freedom. She lives this life again, determined not to fall into the same traps.
1. Chapter 1

**Sequel to 'Regrets'.  
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**This starts off after the Fires of Idirsholas, after the spell. Merlin doesn't try to poison Morgana, because Morgause (and a still alive Nimueh) are on the same side as they are, sort of (you'll see).  
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><p><strong>Righting Wrongs<strong>

She had been promised freedom and a peaceful life. Magic users would be free to practice without fear of burning. She was given another chance at this life, and she took it. _They_ took it.

Had she known it would mean she'd be locked up, with only cold stone floors and walls as her comfort, she wouldn't have taken it. She's lost count of the hours (or perhaps days) she's been locked up. Nimueh had promised them so much, but here they are, stuck in the dungeons, captured.

Another chance at this life started well enough. She and Merlin remained close without raising suspicions. He kept Arthur safe, winning over the prince with his quick wit and loyalty. She was kinder to Gwen, as a way to make up for her past treatment of her, in a way. She watched as the girl fell for Lancelot, only for him to leave. Morgana couldn't look at the future knight of Camelot without feeling guilty for raising him from the dead, and now for tearing him away from the Lady of the Lake because of her agreement to relive this life (though neither remember, _no one_ remembers). No one was aware that they've already lived this, that they were pulled away from their eternity, and she feels terrible for it. The course of their lives have changed, hopefully for the better. Freya. She smiles softly, glad that she was able to help Merlin help the girl escape. She's back with the Druids, discovering her ability to control water. Morgana smiles fleetingly, hoping Lancelot will run into her on his travels. She can only hope, for hope is all she has left.

The cell door opens and she stands hurriedly, broken out of her thoughts, shackles on her wrists clinking together, keeping her from attacking the man in front of her. She remembers Arthur being the one to free her in her past life, proving that he was a better man than Uther, last time when they saved Mordred, but now her guardian stands before her, face cold and uncaring.

"You are a coward, Uther Pendragon," she snarls at him.

After all she and Merlin did to save his life from the spell, to save Camelot, this is how they were repaid. With imprisonment. She can't help but sneer at him in disgust.

"I show you kindness and give you a home, and how do you thank me? By performing magic and consorting with a sorcerer," he says slowly, as if trying not to let his anger overcome him.

"I was born with magic, _father_," she smirks gleefully upon seeing the shock on his face, "I know the truth, Uther. No need to look so surprised."

He remains silent, impassive, schooling his features into a blank expression.

"These chains cannot confine me," she says, anger in her voice replaced with mirth, "you _will_ not remain king for long. It has been foretold."

"Silence, you wicked child!" his rage finally gets the best of him.

"Perhaps I should tell Arthur how your desperation for a child led you to magic to conceive him. Your actions killed your wife, Uther, not magic. You were warned!" she yells at him, "Or maybe I should tell him I'm his sister."

The color drains from Uther's face. Arthur can't know of the truth or he will never forgive him.

"Silence! Morgana, see reason," he shouts, voice cracking.

She glares at him with cold green eyes, lips quirking into a ghost of a smile.

"How can I see reason when you're not only holding me captive, but the man who has prevented me from killing you time and time again," she says, eyes wandering to a neighboring cell.

Uther's rage returns, "He's a servant! He lied to Arthur, to me, and shall be punished!"

"For what? Saving your lives every day?" she laughs bitterly. She knows he can hear her, he always hears her.

"For treason and lying," he regards his daughter pitifully, "he is the one who introduced you to magic, was he not?" To think the strong Morgana could be fooled by a boy with a goofy grin.

"No," she says harshly, "magic is inborn."

"Defend him, then, protect him. It will be of no use. Renounce magic and return to your place," he orders.

"My place? I am not a decoration to be placed in court to look pretty! I have opinions, beliefs, and magic! I am proud to be a sorceress, and I will not deny who I am any longer. Do your worst," she sends a steely glare.

Uther regards her for a few moments before storming out of the cell.

Morgana breathes heavily, energy spent. She slouches onto the cold floor, exhausted. She needs to get out. She needs Merlin. She needs Uther gone. In her vision he was still alive when Arthur was crowned, but she hates the thought of Uther being free after all of the heinous crimes he committed.

She wraps her arms around her knees, shaking with unshed tears. A guard comes to the cell, slowly, as if afraid she's harm him with magic. She entertains the thought briefly, she then sees Uther with him and snarls.

"What?" she spits out with venom.

"You are to be executed in the morning with the sorcerer," he informs her, watching her reaction.

She refuses to give Uther the satisfaction of seeing her break. Her heart goes cold but her face remains impassive. To think she had been willing to give this monster another chance.

"Last chance, Morgana, renounce this evil," he says with authority he doesn't deserve.

"Go to hell, _my lord_," she says with a twisted smile, stressing the last two words. Her father glares at her and leaves with the guard.

As soon as they're out of sight, she lets the panic settle in. She's petrified of the fate that awaits her. She tries to break free of the chains, but can't when her mind isn't clear. And her magic isn't as strong as it will be. She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. She feels the magic inside of her, but nothing.

Silent tears stream down her face until she falls asleep, awaiting her death in the morning.

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><p>She wakes up, blinking in confusion. There's a torch in front of her, and a smiling Merlin. Her heart soars and she tries to hug him.<p>

"Merlin," she whispers in joy.

"I told you I'd always come for you," he says, taking her hands. His eyes glow gold and the shackles break free.

"We're escaping," he informs her, though it's obvious.

She lets out a relieved laugh, before quieting. They can't get caught. He leads her out of the cell, and they see guards knocked out on the ground. She bites back a chuckle.

"Your doing?" she asks.

"No, actually," he says cryptically.

They creep out of the dungeons through a secret passageway, leading to Kilgarrah's lair. Morgana grips Merlin's hand tightly, nervous. The Great Dragon is a no show, and she relaxes ever so slightly. Merlin pulls her along to the other side of the cave. She didn't even know there was another side, with an exit.

They step out into the dark night, stars shining. To her surprise, Arthur and Gwen are next to two horses, Gwen carrying a basket and a bag.

"What is all this?" she asks, raising a brow.

"Your escape," Gwen smiles sadly, not wanting to see her friend go.

Morgana smiles faintly, not wanting to believe it. Arthur doesn't hate them. He's helping them escape. She hugs her brother, catching him off guard.

"Thank you," she whispers.

"I won't let anyone hurt you," he promises, "either of you," his eyes linger on Merlin for a moment, sad to lose his first real friend, besides Morgana. A friend who isn't afraid to call him on his crap, when need be.

"Thank you," Merlin nods. He's glad he won't be burning at the stake in the morning, but he has a nagging feeling that with him gone, Arthur may not survive to see his own regency over Camelot.

"It's the least I could do after you saved my life," Arthur smiles slightly.

Merlin shrugs as if it's nothing, "Who else would boss me around if you were dead?"

Arthur steps forward, and Merlin smirks.

"Are you going in for a hug?" he asks the prince.

"For god's sake, Merlin," he huffs, rolling his eyes.

Merlin chuckles and hugs his master, his friend.

"Tell no one of this," Arthur instructs Gwen and Morgana, who nod and smile. Morgana holds Gwen's hand, sad.

"I'm going to miss you, Gwen," she says quietly.

"You'll be back soon. I know it. I'm going to miss you so much," she hugs Morgana, and sniffs back tears.

The Lady Morgana was her friend first, mistress second. She can only hope the next person she works for will be so kind.

"We will be back," Morgana holds Gwen's hands in hers, "soon enough."

They let go of each other, and Gwen gives Merlin a hug, telling him to be careful like an over-protective mother, while Morgana bids her brother farewell.

"Be careful," she warns, "people want you dead. Be alert."

"Don't worry," Arthur says, "I'll be fine."

He catches Merlin's eye from over Morgana's shoulder. His blue eyes are grim and he looks worried for the future king.

"Oh for heavens sake, Merlin, I'll be fine," he sounds exasperated and cracks a grin, "I'm fighting fit."

"For now, you are," the sorcerer deadpans.

Arthur rolls his eyes in annoyance, and pulls Merlin into a one-armed hug.

"Take care of her, alright? I know she can be grating on the nerves-" he's interrupted by a smack on the arm by his sister, "see what I mean?"

"My mother will be glad to have us, until we get things sorted," Merlin nods. Morgana smiles. She likes Hunith, and she likes Ealdor. It's just what they need, a small little village to hide away in.

Gwen's unusually quiet and upon noticing her concerned look, all are silent.

"Footsteps," she whispers, "go, go where it's safe."

Merlin and Morgana give their friends their final farewells before settling onto the horses, off into the night, leaving Gwen and Arthur staring after them until they're out of sight. As the horses trot away, Merlin looks back, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. If Arthur is hurt, it'll be all his fault because he ran away. Morgana follows his gaze and offers a reassuring smile. He knows what she's thinking. They'll be back to protect Arthur, just as they should.

Back in Camelot, Gwen smiles wistfully, praying for their safety, "Well, goodnight, Arthur."

She moves to walk away when Arthur follows her, "Let me walk you home. It's late."

"I'm perfectly capable..." she doesn't finish her sentence when she sees how heartbroken the prince looks after bidding goodbye to his best friend and foster sister, "Fine," she concedes.

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><p><strong>So...what do you think? Next up is the actual escape from Camelot. Morgause and Nimueh will be around soon enough.<strong>** Please review!**


	2. Wrath of Uther Pendragon

**Thank you for the lovely reviews, everyone! I really appreciate it.  
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><p><strong>Wrath of Uther Pendragon<br>**

The forest is dark and foreboding in the middle of the night. She can't help but look behind them, afraid of being followed. He assures her that they'll be fine, because he cast a spell covering their tracks.

She prays it will be enough.

Ealdor is miles away, on the border of the neighboring kingdom. She yawns and Merlin smiles at her sleepily. They'll reach their destination in the morning. For now they must keep going, lest they be captured.

An owl hoots in the dead of night, and crickets chirp. There is no sound but the creatures and the trots of their horses and their own breathing. Her heart quickens as an unidentified sound nears.

"Merlin," she whispers.

He's already ahead of her, swinging himself off of his horse.

"Keep going," he tells her, ready to run and find out who (or what) is following them.

"You've gone completely mad. I'm not letting you do this alone," she looks at him as if he's grown another head and climbs off of her horse. She pats it gently, and steps to Merlin's side.

"Go to Ealdor where it's safe. I don't want you getting hurt," he frowns.

"We're in this together," she takes his hand and their magic melds together, creating a shield around themselves for protection.

Footsteps on the grass and leaves near, Merlin's hands curl into fists, and the figure is revealed. He and Morgana let out a sigh of relief upon seeing it was just a deer. They share a glance and let out nervous laughter. The deer darts by, completely ignoring them. The two sorcerers climb back onto their horses, setting out at a quicker pace. The little scare has shaken them, and as confident as they are in Merlin's anti-tracking charm, the faster they reach Ealdor, the better, and more at ease they would feel.

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><p>A plate crashes against a tapestry on the wall, falling apart into bits in pieces. The bell tolls in the tower, alerting all of Camelot that prisoners have escaped. The king knocks his goblet of wine over, spilling the red liquid onto the floor and staining the carpet.<p>

"Father, what's happened?" Arthur runs into his father's chambers, concern etched on his face.

"They've escaped, the traitors," Uther seethes, "Morgana told me they could escape, but I didn't believe her. Let this be the last time I underestimate magic."

There's a pause.

"Have the entire town searched, the forest, too. Anyone suspicious shall be arrested and tried for aiding the guilty," he says, hands gripping onto the back of a chair.

"Father, maybe it's best they've gone? They surely can't be a threat to us, I mean, it's _Merlin_ and _Morgana_," Arthur sounds skeptical.

Uther turns on him, gripping him by the shoulders, "They aren't your friends anymore, Arthur. They shall see you and our kingdom butchered for their own gain. Magic is evil. Understand me, boy?"

Uther's face is red, his voice rough. Arthur nods mutely and his father releases him.

"Go!" he orders.

The prince walks out of the room slowly, stopping at the door to watch his father push the table over in anger. Arthur leaves, and Uther slams the door shut. After all he did for her, this is how he repays her. She was always a bit rebellious, but he had seen it as endearing and amusing. She's just a girl, he had thought. She's far more than a girl. He's been keeping a sorceress under his own roof for nearly a decade and was none the wiser. He's a fool to have been so blind because she's a girl with an innocent face and large green eyes. She betrayed him and will have to face the consequences. Magic has obviously corrupted her. Why else would she be cavorting with a sorcerer? He sneers. To think he'd called the boy a valuable asset in the fight against magic. He was only trying to get closer to Arthur to kill him, possibly on Nimueh's commands. And Gaius, who protected the boy. The elderly man has shown his loyalty to the crown many times before, so he hopes Gaius was truly oblivious.

He takes the pitcher of wine that a servant had brought in and throws it against the wall.

Magic made him lose everything he held dear once before. He won't allow magic to destroy his life once more.

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><p>There it is. A quaint, sleepy village surrounded by grassy hills and overgrown trees met them with warmth and a bright morning. The horses trot into the village, and the magical pair watch as the townspeople go about their day, a few people stopping to wave at Merlin and the newcomer.<p>

Hunith runs out of her home, smiling. Merlin slides off of his horse, offering his hand to Morgana, who hops off. The older woman embraces her son in a warm, loving hug.

"I missed you, my boy," she whispered, taking in the son she hadn't seen in a year.

Merlin smiles at her and Morgana waves awkwardly from behind him. She's taken by surprise when Hunith envelops her into a hug. She's shocked and doesn't relax for a moment. The last time her mother and father (Gorlois, not Uther) hugged her was when she was nine or ten. Uther hugged her rarely, and when he did, it was for show, and not a genuine display of affection. But now, she relaxes into Hunith's motherly arms.

The two women pull away and Hunith smiles lightly.

"It's so good to see you. Come inside for some breakfast," she ushers them into the small, homely cottage.

Once situated at the small table, Hunith sets a loaf of bread and some butter on the table.

"When Gaius sent me word that you were in the dungeons, I was so worried," Hunith admits, sitting down.

"Gaius told you?" Morgana sounds confused. She was under the impression that Gaius would defend Uther, though Merlin is his kin.

"Not Gaius, exactly. He contacted your sister, Morgause. She came to the village just two nights ago to tell me what happened," she recounts what she knows, "though my brother has been protecting the king for decades, family is more important to him."

Merlin smiles lightly, "I just hope Uther doesn't suspect him of helping us."

Morgana puts a hand on his, squeezing it. Hunith watches them with a gentle expression, and Morgana wishes they could tell her the truth. That they've lived this life before (though certain events have changed) and that they met all the way in the year 2012, mad as it seems. But they can't, for no one must know this has already happened.

Nimueh explained it to them at the Isle of the Blessed. Everything that seems familiar or may trigger a memory for everyone else is merely seen as deja vu, nothing more. If the truth were revealed, the world would go back to how it was, as if the spell was never cast, back to the twenty first century. She doesn't want that. Not at all.

She doesn't have Vivien here, but she doesn't feel so alone. She has Merlin, and Arthur and Gwen's support. Now Hunith's. It's the life she's wanted, the life she wants. She's going to fight Uther Pendragon to get what she wants, what she needs, even if it kills her in the process. Never let it be said that the Lady Morgana didn't go down fighting.

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><p>He sits slumped in his chair, looking older than he did merely a few nights ago. He stares out the window, watching at the crowd assembled, the guards and knights keeping them at bay. The pyre was set up, ready to burn the traitors. He looks up when there's a knock at the door.<p>

"Enter," he's tired and weary.

Arthur steps through the doorway and he too, looks like he's been up the entire night.

"Well?" the king asked.

"There's no sign of them," Arthur's voice croaks, "No one has any information. Perhaps they used magic to escape, leaving no trace?"

Uther snarls, "Go to the Druid camp. They'll surely be hiding there. Slaughter them all if need be."

Arthur gapes at him, "The Druids are peaceful. Surely they know better than to hide fugitives."

"They kidnapped Morgana once before, did they not? Perhaps they infected her with magic, with sorcery," Uther begins to mutter, nearly unintelligible.

Arthur can't take any of this anymore. He will not let innocent people die because of his father's rage.

"They didn't kidnap her, father. She feared she had magic and went to them for assistance, since no one here would help her. She was frightened, scared of what you'd do to her. Now I see she was right," Arthur says as calmly as he can.

Uther's head snaps up, a manic look in his eyes.

"You knew? You knew of her deceit, of your servant's deceit, and you remained silent?" he stands, inching towards his son.

"They're my friends. They don't want to hurt anyone. They were just afraid of you," Arthur holds his ground when Uther shakes his shoulders violently.

"Magic kills the soul. They aren't your friends anymore!" he shakes him again. It dawns on him that he must have helped them escape, and he's enraged that Arthur dare defy him in such a manner.

Arthur pushes Uther away, snarling.

"I refuse to take part in this witch hunt. If you want someone to burn, you can burn me," he says venomously.

Uther's green eyes widen, and the color drains from his face. He can't kill his own child. Not after everything he's lost.

"Then go to the dungeons," he says automatically, mouth moving before his brain could catch up.

Arthur suppresses his surprise and nods, "So be it."

He leaves the room with as much dignity as he can, feet leading him towards the dungeon.

In his chambers, Uther Pendragon stifles a cry of panic and sorrow. All he's held dear has just been lost forever. He straightens himself up wipes his face. He's the king, the leader of Camelot. He needs to stand by his decisions.

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><p>She wakes up in a cold sweat from the nap Hunith insisted they take. Merlin sits up groggily beside her, worry etched on his face. She looks at him in fear, chest constricting. Her dream was plagued by fire and death.<p>

She need only say one word for Merlin to understand completely.

"Arthur," she whispers.

It is at that moment that Merlin jumps off of the makeshift bed, pulling on his worn shirt. There's a sort of anger and rage in his eyes she's only seen a few times in her life (lives).

She follows him, putting on her shoes and tying her hair back into a braid as quickly as possible. Hunith returns from her chores, startled to see the new arrivals ready to go.

"I knew Arthur would be in trouble once we left. I just didn't know it'd be Uther who would try and kill him," Merlin says numbly. Morgana holds his hand as they explain to Hunith that they must leave.

"The journey is long, you must hurry, then," she smiles sadly at her son and the girl who she considers to be an adoptive daughter of sorts.

"We don't need the horses," Merlin says. They didn't use the spell before because Arthur and Gwen had been wonderful enough to set up their escape. Now, they're on their own.

He takes Morgana's other hand and she closes her eyes. He chants the transportation spell, eyes glowing. When she opens her eyes, they're in the forest, Camelot in sight.

Now they must save the prince, even if it means putting their own lives at risk. Uther Pendragon would feel their wrath. No one gets to harm her brother and Merlin's best friend. Even the king.

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><p><strong>Different course of events, here, so it's going to be quite AU. I hope this was enjoyable to read. Please review!<strong>


	3. The Once and Future King

**This is probably the last chapter. You'll see why.  
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><p><strong>The Once and Future King<strong>

She doesn't know how they've managed to pull this off, but they have. Morgause and Merlin stand by either side of her, Cenred's men ready to attack. They're lucky Cenred has a soft spot for Morgause, and that Nimueh offered to keep Mordred safe at the Isle, just in case the Druids somehow get involved in this. This is their final battle, their last stand against Uther Pendragon.

She scowls, realising that Nimueh was safely watching everything from the Isle of the Blessed, probably grinning gleefully at the sight of sorcerers storming Camelot.

But that doesn't matter, now. They need to save Arthur. It was time. If they succeed, Camelot will have its golden age with the prince crowned the new king. If not, then returning to the past would be all for nothing.

Her heart constricts when she can see smoke rising from the town square, even from so far away. The pyre has been lit, perhaps as a warning to all those who dare question the king. Even his son.

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><p>His head rests against the cold, hard stones. His wrists are chafing due to the shackles, and he wonders if this is how Morgana and Merlin must have felt, trapped and alone. Where had he gone wrong? Did his father despise magic so much that he was willing to murder his own child? Perhaps Morgause was correct, and Merlin lied to protect his feelings. Maybe the ghost really was his mother, and Merlin lied (again with the lying) to prevent him from killing his father.<p>

He's tired of people trying to protect him. He knows they care, but he was a knight and crowned prince, not some child who would fall apart at the truth. He admits that he can be a bit of a prat and irrational at times, but he means well.

He looks up at the sound of footsteps, breaking him from his thoughts. It's Sir Leon, who looks grim and terribly apologetic. He opens the door to the cell silently, unable to look the prince in the face.

"It's alright, Leon," Arthur says quietly as the knight frees his wrists, leading him out.

He nods, ashamed that he was following orders. They climb the stairs out of the dungeons, to see Gwen standing morosely by the door. She offers a nervous, sad smile, and Arthur just wants to hold her, one last time.

It's as if his steps go by in a blur, when before he knows it, he's outside in the glaring summer sun. His people, his subjects are gathered around, waiting to watch him die in a fiery flame. He chokes back a whirlwind of emotions. He will die with dignity, with honour, with pride.

"People of Camelot," Uther's voice booms from the castle. He's standing on the balcony, refusing to meet Arthur's eye.

"This is what happens when magic corrupts the soul. I hereby condemn Prince Arthur to death for aiding the sorceress Morgana and sorcerer Merlin. Let this be a lesson to those of you who dare defy the laws of Camelot."

The crowd whispers amongst themselves, terrified. They like Arthur, but no one dares question Uther. And no one notices the lone tear that slides down his cheek.

"Sire," Gaius tries to make him call the entire thing off. He's ignored.

"Any last words?" Uther tries to keep up his heartless facade. He blames magic for all of this. For Ygraine's death, for the corruption of his daughter, and now for the corruption of his son.

Arthur walks up to the pyre, looking at the subjects. He will get to say what he wants.

"I am doing this for the future of my kingdom. Magic is not an evil, but as the Lady Morgana says, a force for good," he licks his lips, scanning the crowd. Gwen stands alone, hands covering her face, shoulders shaking, "I die not in vain, but for the end of prejudice."

The crowd is silent as the executioner begins to tie him to the pyre, ready to set fire to the prince.

"NO!" comes a roar from the back of the crowd.

Shouts are heard from the assembled as they part to reveal three sorcerers. Merlin has his arms outstretched, eyes glowing, Morgana and Morgause on either side of him. The bindings that hold Arthur fly off, tying up the executioner instead. Morgana takes out a sword from the hilt of her belt, tossing it to her brother.

Uther watches in shock and anger as the evil sorcerers barge into his kingdom, daring to defy him. But they are only three people, no match against the army of Camelot.

"Seize them!" he orders.

Some knights make half-hearted attempts to capture the magicians, only for Morgause to wield a sword of her own. She disarms them easily, and they remember that she's beaten the prince in combat.

"Morgana!" Gwen joins the clamor, holding two swords. She passes one to Morgana and they share a smile. Fighting side by side reminds them of being in Ealdor, helping the villagers ward off the invaders plaguing Merlin's town.

"Good to see you again," the sorceress smiles as they ward off more knights. Townspeople run off, to their homes in order to escape the violence. Sir Leon ushers the women and children away, and Morgause stops him.

"There's an army outside the city walls, ready to attack if the king does not step down. Make sure people are safe," she informs the knight, who nods, both a bit wary and intrigued by the woman. He's ready to lay down his life if it means Arthur will be king.

Merlin runs to Arthur, "Are you alright?"

Arthur merely looks at him with wide eyes and hugs him.

"I am now," he says quietly.

Before Merlin has a chance to make a clever remark, there's a noise behind them. A sword is pointed at Merlin's throat, and he whips around, immediately knocking back one of the knights loyal to Uther. Arthur spins his sword around in anger, holding it at the man's neck.

"You ever try and harm him again, and you won't have a head," he growls, kicking him.

He and Merlin leave the fallen knight, running towards the midst of the battle. It's Morgause, Morgana, and Gwen against several of Uther's knights. So far, the sorceress have been able to render most of them unconscious (or all three of them have run their swords through them).

"Where are the townspeople?" Merlin asks.

"Leon and a few knights have gotten them to safety. They should be outside of the city walls by now," Morgana informs him. A knight barrels towards her and she runs the sword through his stomach in a bored fashion. Morgause lets out an un-ladylike snort at the younger woman's fighting skills. She spins, blonde hair fanning out when she spots another of Uther's men. She slashes her sword across his arm and a few feet away, Gwen kicks a knight before stabbing him in the leg, looking apologetic and worried.

He nods, and Merlin's blue eyes turn gold and he speaks in a language Arthur didn't understand.

A rumble is felt from the earth, and Uther storms out of the castle, sword in hand. His men are defeated (three girls defeated his men, impossible! he seethes and figures it must be sorcery), and he stands alone. Camelot has never been so empty before. It dawns on him that everyone has evacuated, no one left to rally behind him.

"Stop! I command you!"

"You are not our king, Uther," Morgana scowls at her father.

"I am King of Camelot, and while you are in my realm, you will obey me," he grits his teeth.

Arthur holds his sword limply, biting his lip.

"Tell me the truth, Father. Please," his eyes are wide and Uther thinks he looks like a little boy again, "the truth, just this once."

Morgause glares at Uther and frowns, "Tell him, Uther. If you resist us, there's an army waiting outside the city walls. We don't want innocent people hurt. Just tell him."

Tears prick the old king's eyes and he heaves.

"I employed Nimueh to help Ygraine become with child. I did not know that she'd take your mother's life. She tricked me!" his voice held tinges of regret and he pleads with his son.

Arthur looks down, biting back a cry. So it was true. His father's desperation led to his mother's death.

"She told you of the consequences," Merlin scowls, matching Morgana's expression, "she warned you that the price is a life for a life. She didn't know it'd be Ygraine's life, she can't control that!"

Uther turns his gaze from his son to the sorcerer.

"She's a sorceress, of course she had control over it," he glares.

"That's not how the Old Religion works. You can't pick and choose who lives and who dies," Morgana crosses her arms.

"Magic is the reason everything I hold dear is lost," the king says quietly, solemn.

"No, father, you brought it upon yourself," Arthur manages to choke out, staring him in the eye. His grip tightens around the sword, and he raises it. Morgause looks surprised and happy (because he's the man who slaughtered her people), Morgana shocked, and Merlin disbelieving. Gwen watches from the sidelines in fright.

The sword presses upon the king's chest, and Uther sinks to the ground. He closes his eyes, ready to be killed.

"Arthur, no! That'll make you no better than him," Merlin whispers, and Morgana takes his hand. It's Arthur's decision, they can't stop him.

"You are no longer king, father. You will call a meeting immediately, renouncing your title in front of court. Then Cenred's men will leave for good, and you will be punished for your crimes," Arthur states evenly, not letting emotion get the best of him.

"You won't kill me?" he opens his eyes in relief.

Arthur regards him for a few moments, drawing his sword away.

"I could never kill my flesh and blood, even if you are able to," he states. Uther's heart clenches, and he feels guilty for nearly killing his son.

* * *

><p>The throne room is filled to the limit. The members of court nobility occupy the first few rows, donned in their glamorous dresses and elaborate tunics. Even commoners stand watch attentively, more people still in crowds outside holding a vigil, because this is the dawn of a new age. A dawn of fairness and equality for everyone.<p>

Morgana stands at the forefront, wearing her white dress (as a signal of renewal), Merlin by her side. He's got a goofy grin on his face and wears what appears to have once been Arthur's coat, because he is now court adviser. She clutches his hand and grins.

"Pleased, my lady?" he asks her quietly.

"This is how it was supposed to be, Merlin. We've done it," Morgana whispers, tears sparkling in her eyes. He pecks a quick kiss to her lips, and Gwen smiles at them, blushing. Sir Leon stands next to her, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Behind them stand Morgause and Nimueh, both extremely satisfied. The latter sends triumphant smirks to the former king, who glares at her, enraged at the mere fact she stands in court like she used to. Gaius stands between the two as a buffer, just in case.

Uther looks at the pair in front of them in confusion and disdain. To think his ward (daughter) had fooled him for two years while cavorting in secret with that commoner (sorcerer) and he was none the wiser. But looking at the wide smile on her face melts his anger, just a little bit. He'd rather focus his attention on glaring at Nimueh than feel his heart warm to the thought of Merlin marrying his daughter. He has a feeling he can blame the old High Priestess on their union anyway, because never has he seen two of the most unlikely people be betrothed (except once almost thirty years ago). He shivers at the thought. Nimueh sends him another icy stare before turning to Gaius, leaning towards the old man.

"It'll be better this way," she says hopefully, sounding almost like the young girl he used to know.

"I do hope so, my lady," he replies.

Her breath hitches at being called 'my lady', what he used to call her, oh so long ago. When she was just a girl at court and he was the king's manservant and sorcerer. How things had changed when her powers surpassed his and he cowed to the orders of the tyrant king. How things had stayed exactly the same as she looks in his eyes again. She blames Uther Pendragon for all of her losses. Her sister, her love, her people, her happiness. Funnily enough, he blames _her_ for those exact same losses. Her gaze once again strays sadly to the man she once knew, now old and gray and with the most powerful nephew the world will ever see. He could've been _her_ nephew, too, if their loyalties to the crown hadn't shifted so. She shakes herself of any emotion that could cloud her judgment. It's too late for them.

Merlin and Morgana stand in front of her and she decides to focus on them, smiling and happy. It's not too late for them, and she's glad she helped give them their happy ending, even if she could not have one. They'll never know of her motivations, and she's okay with that. She sends another sneaky glance to Gaius before training her eyes at the front of the room.

The doors to the throne room open, and Arthur strides inside, looking around. He smiles at his friends, catching Gwen's eye. She grins back, cheeks colouring a bright pink.

He looks at his people, his kingdom, and kneels before Geoffrey of Monmouth.

"I pronounce thee King Arthur of Camelot," the crown is placed on his golden hair, glistening under the light streaming from the windows.

"Long live the King!" Merlin shouts, inciting the entire room to roar with the same sentiment.

King Arthur stands, trying to keep a calm face, but fails and breaks out into a grin.

"Long live the King!" Morgana's arm is wrapped around Merlin's, her head resting against his shoulder, smiling. Morgause sends him a smile and nod of approval, clapping politely. Leon claps loudly, and Gwen's smile reaches from ear to ear.

Arthur catches her eye and smiles at her, receiving an even brighter grin and blush in return. Gaius looks immensely proud of him, and even Nimueh has a slight smile on her face. She nods in acknowledgment of his reign and he feels relieved that she won't try and kill him.

What is most surprising is the former king's reaction. He claps along, louder than the others. A tear streams down his face.

"Long live the King," he whispers, radiating with pride. Arthur meets his gaze and Uther nods with a small smile.

It had been wrong of him to try and kill his son. To imprison his ward (daughter) and the manservant (sorcerer). As he looks around the room, he knows this is for the best. The people have never appeared so hopeful for the future. His children are happy (even if it is _Merlin_ Morgana has found happiness with) and he's ready to live the rest of his days in prison for the atrocities he'd committed.

He feels Nimueh's glare on him and he looks at her, nodding slightly. She regards him coolly and finally nods ever so slightly. It's a stalemate. They'll never forgive each other, but the least they can do is put the past behind them.

It's the birth of an era. The Golden Age of Camelot has begun.

* * *

><p><strong>So this is most likely the end. I'm of the opinion that there must of been something between Gaius and Nimueh all those years ago, and I feel like Gaius was to Uther what Merlin is to Arthur. (I may write a one-shot about them). Anyway, I can either end it here or I can continue with a completely AU season 3 full of happiness and weddings and some magical things. <strong>

**Let me know which you'd all prefer. Please review!**


	4. Herald of a New Age

**Thank you so much for the reviews, everyone. I've decided to continue, so be prepared for the sappiness. I know exactly how I want this story to end, but it's the in-between I'm struggling with. Class work has piled up, so I will most likely be taking a break from writing until I can get everything under control, as it's the pre-finals crunchtime.**

* * *

><p><strong>Herald of a New Age<strong>

They've barely slept, for the coronation feast lasted until the latest hours of night and the earliest hours of the morning.

It's a comforting feeling, to wake up in his arms and know that he doesn't have to sneak away early or she has to clear her room of his scent. She likes his scent, and the way his arms hold her in the moments between sleep and waking up. She loves those moments, when they're bleary eyed and warm. His eyes are always half-closed as he mumbles about morning, chores, and the prat prince (now king) and something about Gaius, but not wanting to leave her bed. She always presses light kisses to his cheek, before he rolls off of the bed, dressing. It's usually still dark out and he sneaks off back to Gaius's.

There will be no more sneaking off, for Morgana made it clear the previous night at the feast that both she and Merlin are spoken for. After all, she merely rejected every invitation to dance and sent icy glares towards some of the maids who were chatting up her fiance. Merlin, being the polite man he is, didn't seem to have the heart to turn them down, so it was up to her to glide towards them, linking her arms with his, dragging him onto the dance floor.

The nobility stared oddly, turning to the king to see what his reaction would be. The king hardly noticed his foster sister and manservant in such close proximity, as if it was something he was used to. And he was. Because a few months ago he'd barged into Merlin's bedroom to reprimand him for unfinished chores and was stunned to see Morgana kissing him. At the sound of his confused 'What?' they broke apart, red-lipped and sheepish. After that, the then-prince decided to leave them be after administering warnings to the both of them. 'I didn't think you cared' Merlin had joked, earning an eye-roll. So, with the king's apparent indifference to the matter, the nobility went on with their business, speaking of money or estates, or whatever they did.

Everyone had been in such a good mood, dancing and chatting, and drinking. Even Nimueh seemed to be enjoying herself (well, that's what was assumed, seeing as she wasn't glaring at anyone or trying to set the castle on fire) when she had a chat with Gaius and found out that the former king was under arrest in his chambers, and that he'd be moved to the dungeons for some time. Morgause left early, making some excuse about Camelot not being her place, and that she feels more comfortable in Cenred's kingdom. Morgana had smirked knowingly as the older sorceress departed.

Morgana and Gwen found the newly minted King and Merlin nursing goblets of wine, more than a little bit tipsy. Never would she have thought Merlin could handle his alcohol intake better than Arthur, but she was proven wrong when the King stumbled up out of his seat, grinning at Gwen like a love-sick puppy. Morgana and Merlin watched in amusement as Arthur made declarations of love and Gwen's eyes widened like saucers in shock, cheeks reddening.

The pair shared a dance or two, and that seemed to sober Arthur up a little, which was a relief since people were beginning to notice his clumsiness. Merlin and Morgana were entrusted with damage control and making sure the King got to his chambers at the end of the night in one piece. Once everyone had left and gone to their own homes, the two sorcerers were left with an inebriated King. They stood on either side of Arthur, dragging him up the castle stairs. Merlin murmured something about him having gotten heavier, and Morgana nodded in pain. Her arms were going to fall off. They finally reached the King's chambers and dropped him on the bed, leaving him face down on the sheets, leaving him to sleep off his drinks.

Tired, the only two people left awake in the castle set off to sleep.

In fact, they only retired to her chambers-_their_ chambers but three hours ago. The silk sheets are twisted about their forms, her arm draped across his chest and his hand drawing circles on her shoulder lazily.

"No running off this morning," she smiles impishly, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Never again," he says, deepening the kiss and leaning over her. The sheet slides down his waist, hanging off of his narrow hips.

"I don't think you need this," she whispers conspiratorially, running her fingers down his pale chest and stomach. She's glad he doesn't seem _as_ thin (though he is, by everyone's standards, thin) as he was in modern London. The sickly look does not suit him.

"Really?" he raises a brow, smirking. She nods, resting her head against the pillow.

* * *

><p>She stands behind the screen, pulling a dress on over her head while Merlin dresses haphazardly, jumping up and down when trying to put his shoes on.<p>

"Arthur is going to kill me," he bemoans his most certain fate. The new King has called a meeting to revise the laws of Camelot, and requested his new adviser's presence, as well as the presence of the High Priestess. Merlin is sure that Nimueh's already there, smirking left, right, and centre as she plots ways to make Arthur appear incompetent. Actually, she doesn't need to plan that. The young King is quite adept at putting his own foot in his mouth without any assistance from anyone else.

"He can't kill you. Then there'll be no wedding," Morgana says dryly, stepping from behind the screen, wearing a purple dress.

Merlin looks at her, startled, "I thought we weren't going to have a wedding. We agreed, no big thing, just us and the Isle of the Blessed for the ceremony."

"That's called a wedding," Morgana snorts in an unladylike manner, "it'll be just us, Arthur, Gwen, Morgause, Nimueh, and your mother."

Merlin nods his head absentmindedly, "When is this supposed to be?"

She glares at him, "Out."

He nods, knowing that look all too well. He grins sheepishly, apologetic, and rushes out of the room just as a plate flies across the room, hitting the wall. Morgana lets out a laugh when he sticks his head through the doorway and sticks his tongue out. Her eyes flash gold.

"_Lúcan_," she says, and the door shuts. She hears Merlin's laughter from the other side of the door and his footsteps leading away. She shakes her head and sits down at her vanity, feeling lighthearted for the first time.**  
><strong>

* * *

><p>"You're late," the King scowls at his manservant...er, adviser.<p>

"Sorry, my lord," Merlin's out of breath, as he ran through the castle to the meeting hall. He thinks it best not to use spells for the little things.

Unsurprisingly, Nimueh's already seated at the table, serenely regarding him with cold blue eyes.

"Sit down, Merlin, we don't have all day," she says evenly. Merlin rolls his eyes and she smiles a little. Huh. She's given them another chance at making things right. Maybe she isn't as heartless as he thinks she is. He sits down next to her and watches Arthur pace the room.

"I want to reverse the ban on magic," he starts, "but I'm afraid it will cause backlash. My father spent twenty years convincing everyone that magic is evil and that practitioners are wicked and cunning. They might fear that sorcerers will enter Camelot, and leave due to their prejudice and fear. But you, Merlin, are proof that not every person with magic is a vengeance seeking genius," the King rambles on and on, receiving a raised eyebrow from Nimueh (who seems to have mastered it from Gaius).

"Er, thanks," Merlin crosses his arms, watching the king pace due to nerves, "oh, by the way, I need to free the dragon your father's been keeping below the castle."

Arthur's eyes bug out and Nimueh lets out a short, genuine laugh.

"You're going to free the dragon?" he crosses his arms to match Merlin. Uther locked that thing up as a show of his power as King.

"Yep. I promised that once Uther is no longer king, I'd free him."

"What?"

With a sigh, Merlin goes into his tale of how the dragon, the Great Dragon, can see the future. How it's been foretold that he will help Arthur lead Camelot into the golden age and unite Albion. Arthur raises his brow and shrugs.

"Alright, then."

Nimueh shakes her head. This is the king she's supposed to work with? She's only thankful that her nephew has taken after Ygraine (may she rest in peace) instead of his insolent, tyrannical father. She frowns, sadly remembering her half-sister. No, Arthur doesn't have to know that Ygraine is her sister, making her his aunt. Too much has happened already. She's shaken out of her thoughts when the Merlin rushes out, eager to free Kilgarrah, and watches Arthur follow him. She stands, alone in the meeting hall. She decides to go see if Gaius needs any help with potions, because she used to help him, and because she doesn't want to be alone.

* * *

><p>"You have succeeded, young warlock," the dragon says with approval, "you and the sorceress are fulfilling your destinies."<p>

Arthur crosses his arms, "Is there something I need to know?"

Merlin shakes his head, "It's nothing. Just give me the keys."

Arthur huffs, and hands his friend the keys to the shackles holding the dragon. He watches sceptically, not trusting the dragon, though Merlin seems to do so. Merlin wants to ask Kilgarrah if his father is still alive, but holds in his curiosity. Perhaps, since he didn't have to save Merlin in this life, he's still alive, maybe even near Ealdor. He keeps his mouth shut, and focuses on freeing the dragon.

Merlin undoes the binds, "Free, _áhreddan_," his eyes turn gold as he frees the dragon with magic.

"Thank you, young warlock. King Arthur," the Great Dragon bows and flaps its giant wings, going up into the sky, disappearing from the castle.

The King scratches the back of his head. His first day on the job is proving to be interesting thus far.

* * *

><p>The sorceress enters the small, messy home after knocking on the door lightly. She bites her lip to see it unoccupied. There are stacks of books, some old and some new, vials of potions, some of poisons.<p>

"Hello," she says into the empty room, frowning. She decides to take the opportunity to rifle through a book. It's of antidotes and beasts, creatures that mortals fear.

"What are you doing here?" his voice startles her, and she jumps back from the book.

"I thought you might need some assistance," she says calmly.

"Nimueh, why are you here?" he asks again, raising his brow.

"I wanted to apologise. For calling you a traitor. For fighting with you. We were friends once, Gaius," she looks at him, cold eyes no longer so cold, but warmer like they used to be, "I was young and foolish. I'm sorry."

Gaius nods tensely, regarding the woman who still looks so young. He remembers going to the Isle of the Blessed to ask her to help Ygraine, surprised to see a slip of a girl, barely out of her teen years. They had worked side by side with Alice, the three of them friends, until Nimueh grew colder and distanced herself from them. It was the circumstances surrounding Arthur's birth. The price of magic.

"I'm going to make my rounds around town, if you want to come," he doesn't forgive her. Not yet, anyway, but he can be kind to the girl (woman).

* * *

><p>She's sitting on her bed, reading, as she likes to do. For once, it's not a spell book, but a novel she found in the library. There's a brief knock at the door, and Merlin enters, hands behind his back. She looks up, smiling.<p>

"You don't have to knock, this is your room now, too," she says, sliding off of the bed. He looks around the room and wrinkles his nose.

"It's a bit too feminine," he quips, "perhaps we could add some masculine touches."

Morgana scoffs, "Like what? A pile of dirty, smelly clothes?"

"Are you saying I smell bad?" he looks affronted and she laughs.

"No, you smell like a field of flowers," she smirks.

"It's probably because I was in a field of flowers. I got you these," in his hand that had been behind his back is a bunch of purple wild flowers, the colour of her dress. She takes them with a smile.

"Merlin," she whispers. She remembers this. Back then, after her miraculous return to Camelot and his apologies, he had gotten her flowers. But it was too late for her, then. She was already bitter due to his murder attempt.

She hugs him close to her, and he rubs her back while she murmurs unnecessary apologies.

"I thought we've moved past this," he says quietly, holding her.

"Sometimes, the memories, they just come up and I can't stop them," she admits and he responds by hugging her tighter. They remain that way for a few moments until they're interrupted.

"Oh for Camelot's sake," comes an exasperated sigh from the doorway. It's then that they remember they left the door open, "at least close the door."

Arthur has his arms crossed and he looks between his foster sister and new adviser. He still needs to find a new servant, now that he thinks about it.

Morgana glares at him while Merlin scratches the back of his head in embarrassment. It's just like the time he caught them snogging in his room.

"I've written a speech," he says, and they notice the parchment in his hands. He hands it over to the magical beings and they read it. Morgana looks up and him with a wide grin and Merlin looks gobsmacked. He knows Arthur wants to allow magic in the land again, but he didn't realise he'd write a speech so quickly.

"Hold on. You wrote this ages ago, didn't you?" Merlin asks, looking up from the parchment to Arthur.

"Yes," he admits, "I just never brought it up because of father," he shrugs.

Morgana gives him a quick hug and Merlin smiles. Magic is no longer a crime in Camelot, but practitioners of dark magic are still not welcomed. It's a start.

* * *

><p>His head is resting against the cold stones of the dungeon, much like his son's was a few nights ago. He, Uther Pendragon, locked up in a dungeon cell like some common criminal. He lets out an aggravated sigh and narrows his eyes at the loaf of bread and water that had been brought to him. He supposes he deserves this.<p>

He looks up when he sees his son, crown atop his head.

"Father," Arthur says.

"Come to punish me further?" he asks tiredly. Arthur falters and bites his lip.

"I've come to inform you that I've reversed the ban on magic. Lord Geoffrey has already added it to the law books. I thought you should know," Arthur says, waiting for a snarky comment or backlash.

Uther merely nods, "Yes, yes. I figured you'd do as such."

A wistful smile crosses his lips, "I used to think magic could be used for good, too."

"It still can be," Arthur says softly.

Uther stares at him with clear green eyes, wrinkles surrounding his face. Arthur wonders when his father had started to look so old.

"You'll only be here a little while longer," he says quieter still. He's arranged for Uther to be under home arrest, not to leave his chambers unless supervised.

The old king nods and watches as his son leaves him alone in a dungeon.

* * *

><p><strong>Yeah. That's it for now. It's so strange to be writing a Merlin story that isn't angsty. Well, maybe a little angst. I'll be taking a hiatus to catch up on schoolwork and outline exactly how I want this story to go (hopefully writing the chapters to completion before I start posting again). Thank you so much for reading, and please, leave a review.<strong>


	5. Beginning of the End

**Thank you to those of you who are reading. Extra thanks to those of you reviewing. I really like feedback, so please take the time to review if you can.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Beginning of the End<strong>

He's slumped in a chair at Gaius's, tired. Several ancient books are opened in front of him, sprawled out over the table. The pages are yellowing and frayed at the edges. Entire sections seem to be missing. A few books are not even books at all, for in the middle there are holes cut into them, a secret compartment for hiding things. He doesn't want to know what could possibly be so bad Gaius needs to hide it. His head rests on said table, drool dribbling down his chin. Hours. He's been at work for hours. Between helping Gaius with actually tending to patients and researching magic for Arthur, he's exhausted.

A scoff and a sneer greet him when he wakes, snapping his head up to see Nimueh's cold eyes regarding him with contempt.

"You call this working?" she narrows her eyes at him.

"It's nearly midnight!" Merlin argues, motioning to stand.

She rolls her eyes, but bites her tongue before she can hammer him with a few scathing words. In her arms is a basket filled with herbs, which only had healing properties when collected after dusk. She slams it down on the rickety old table. Merlin looks at the basket and herbs dumbly. He had forgotten to go help Gaius, and his eyes widen.

"I don't know why he puts up with you," she mutters under her breath. She turns to sweep out of the small room. She does not live in Camelot, but instead returns to the Isle even though accommodations in the castle would be more comfortable. She doesn't want to be too near to these people. Their stupidity and attitudes make her sick. She'll never admit that she can feel her humanity returning and her quest for vengeance slipping away. After all, Uther is imprisoned. It's what she had wanted for more than twenty years (and several lifetimes). Now she has her wish.

"Thank you," Merlin says quietly, "for helping Gaius."

Her back is to him when she answers, "He's old, Merlin."

There's an indescribable tone in her voice and she waltzes out of the room, leaving the young man to scratch his head in confusion.

* * *

><p>He nearly jogs back to the castle, avoiding the guards who probably wouldn't notice him anyway. He creeps into the entrance, through the halls, and up the stairs. The door to her, <em>their<em> chambers is locked and he murmurs quietly, as not to awaken the woman asleep.

"_Tóspringe_," he opens the doorand closes it behind him. He pulls off his shoes and unties his neckerchief. His shirt and trousers are discarded as well. He looks around in the dark in vain for his nightshirt, and hears a muffled laugh coming from under the covers. He steps toward the bed, only the top of Morgana's head visible for she's buried herself under the covers.

"Very funny," he grumbles like an old man.

His fiancee pokes her head out from the blanket, sticking her tongue out at him.

"What took you so long?" she asks as he slips onto the bed, one leg dangling off the edge.

He sighs, "I was supposed to help Gaius collect herbs, but I fell asleep. Nimueh lectured me."

Morgana snorts in a very unladylike manner before appearing apologetic.

"It's not as if she'd go out into the forest in the middle of the night," she offers, wrapping an arm around him.

Guilt darkens his eyes, "She did."

She looks surprised and confused all at once.

"Gaius is old, Morgana," Merlin gulps.

She sits up in bed, her mint green night gown slipping off her narrow shoulders. A worried frown crosses her lips.

"Do you think?" she doesn't have to finish her sentence.

"I don't know. He's been slower lately, and more exhausted."

The young warlock's brow furrows and he sighs once more, looking at the ceiling. Morgana reaches over and brushes his ever-growing hair out of his face and kisses his cheek softly. He turns to face her and musters a weak smile. He kisses her lips gently and wraps his arms around her waist. She in turn kisses his forehead and whispers, "Goodnight."

* * *

><p>The new King is distressed. Distress is an understatement. He's standing in his chambers, in front of his wardrobe, without trousers. His night shirt is rumpled and it's obvious he's had a fitful night instead of resting. He glares at the trousers and pouts dramatically, though no one is there to see. He's between manservants since his former manservant had to go and be a sorcerer (quite a good one at that) and become a member of the court as magical adviser and betrothed of the Lady Morgana. He sneers in the mirror at the thought of his foster sister and ex-manservant (and dare he say it, friend). He's never see a match so unlikely, in his honest opinion.<p>

He glares still at the wardrobe, as if he'll magically be dressed and ready for the day. The only reason he was able to be ready so early in the morning the day of the meeting and passing of laws (and every other day after that) was because Guinevere had so thoughtfully sent one of the other servants to assist him. She knows him well. But, that servant had caught the illness that was spreading around Camelot (running poor Gaius thin, and Nimueh greatly impatient).

Arthur barrels into the hallway. Most people are still asleep. The castle is deserted. How he's managed the past few weeks without Merlin's 'rise and shine' he's not sure.

So the trouser-less king storms through the halls of his castle, grumbling. About the stupid dollop head that is Merlin. And his laziness.

He reaches Morgana, er, Morgana and Merlin's chambers (he gets a bad taste in his mouth just joining their names together, let alone knowing they share a bed before the wedding) and knocks on the door. There's no reply. He tries again, only to hear a muffled thump. He swings open the door and dodges a boot flying his way.

"What are you doing?" Merlin's sitting up in bed, skinny arms holding another boot, prepared to throw it.

A crown of dark curls shakes, and Morgana flips onto her stomach, covering her ears with a pillow.

"Do you expect me to dress myself?" the king asks indignantly.

"Ehm, yes?" Merlin bursts out into laughter upon seeing Arthur's lack of trousers.

Morgana raises her head, opening bleary eyes. She immediately wakes up and erupts into a fit of giggles before burying her head under the covers once more.

"It's not funny!" Arthur pouts, turning to leave. Merlin's laughter gets louder and he's positive Morgana's laughed herself to death. He changes his mind. Their match isn't unlikely at all. No, they're perfect for one another.

* * *

><p>"Honestly Arthur, you're a grown man," Merlin yawns as he throws a red shirt at the king a half hour later.<p>

Arthur frowns and slips the shirt over his head. Merlin passes him a pair of black trousers and Arthur steps into them. Merlin then hands him a belt and the king frowns.

"Are there more holes in this?" Arthur asks suspiciously.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Merlin says instantly, edging towards a table.

Arthur glares, "I am not fat!"

"Not yet, anyway," Merlin says under his breath. His eyes widen and he scurries out the door right as a plate hits the wall. He pokes his head back in and grins.

"Your aim's gotten worse," he says before dashing away.

"_Mer_lin!" the king shouts, putting his belt on. He goes to the third loop as always, and it feels like he's being squeezed to death. He looks down and frowns. Feasts. It was just from all the feasts they've been having lately. He's fighting fit. He's fighting fit.

* * *

><p>Morgana strolls through the market, Gwen at her side. The Lady rifles through silks and satins and sashes, trying to find the perfect fabric for her wedding dress. Whites, silvers, and gold. That's what she wants. Elegant and classic.<p>

Gwen watches her friend in amusement as she excitedly hold different fabrics up to her face, giddy as a little child. The engagement ring is small, but lovely, and looks like it was created to specifically fit Morgana's hand and Morgana's hand only. Knowing Merlin, he probably intended just that.

"What about this?" Morgana asks, holding up white silk with an overlay of silver and grey flowers.

"It's lovely, my Lady," Gwen says with a smile. Morgana frowns at her.

"Enough with the 'my Lady' business, Gwen. It's a new age in Camelot," Morgana chastises her.

"Sorry, Morgana," Gwen stresses her name.

She, in turn, smiles and speaks to the vendor. She purchases six feet of the fabric, then adds another two feet. She's scheduled to meet with Camelot's finest dressmaker later in the day for measurements. The parcel of fabric in arm, she links her other arm with Gwen as they make their way back to the castle.

This is nice. This is the life she could've had. She's just glad she got another chance.

* * *

><p>What had started as simple colds has turned into twenty-five cases of a mysterious illness. Five of the patients are at Gaius's, too ill to move or even speak. There was one death-a little boy.<p>

Merlin blinked back tears and wiped his face with the back of his hand. A postmortem has to be performed. He gently touches the little's boys head, covered by shaggy ginger hair. He brushes the hair aside and looks at the marks on his forehead. Strange. None of the others with the illness has that. He pulls up the boy's sleeves. A large black mark mars his wrist. His other wrist has no such mark.

His brow furrows. He recognises the mark, but he doesn't know from where. He moves across the room to grab a book, flipping through it. There's nothing to help him. Merlin sinks onto a chair next to the boy, feeling incredibly guilty. His parents had brought him in with a fever, red face, and shortness of breath. Those are the same symptoms of the others, but it was so much worse for this boy.

The boys parents enter the room, solemn, and Merlin can't help but glare at them. Their child was sick, complaining of not being able to breathe, chills, fever, and aching limbs, yet they waited until today to bring him in. It was too late for him to do anything, magic or not.

"He's got these marks on his wrist," his voice croaks.

The father looks and he looks confused.

"What is that?"

"Whatever killed your son is spreading throughout Camelot. Fast," Merlin's mouth is set into a grim line and he covers the small boy's body with a sheet.

* * *

><p>He works well into the night, tending to the remaining four patients. They all have the chills, fevers, and discolouration. He wonders what could be the cause of it. He aids however he can, soothing their pain with herbs and chanting spells to rid them of their fevers. They seem to improve a great deal, and he has hope they'd feel better in the morning. There are at least fifteen more people or households he'd have to see first thing.<p>

Gaius had already retired to bed and Merlin can't help but worry about the aging physician. Nimueh had made house calls on those complaining of illness, effectively scaring Camelot's citizens into getting better. As stern as she is, she's a magnificent healer, Merlin would give her that.

The door creaks open and he turns around, moist cloth in hand. Morgana stands before him wearing her cloak over her dress, hair tied back.

"I thought you could use some help," she said quietly as not to wake the feverish patients.

"No, it's fine. You go on," Merlin smiles tensely. Whatever it was these people had, he didn't Morgana to catch it. He remembers the boy.

"What's wrong?" she's immediately concerned as she watches him wipe the forehead of an elderly man.

"Lost one today. Seven years old," his voice is hoarse.

Morgana moves to cross the room to give him a hug, but he just looks at her.

"I just need to be alone," his voice breaks and he wipes at his eyes once more.

She nods and kisses him on the forehead before leaving.

* * *

><p>The old man dies in the morning. While Merlin slept a large black stain covered his arm. Two people in two days. Who's next?<p>

* * *

><p><strong>It was getting too happy. I needed to add death and destruction. The bubonic plague was first around in the 6th or 7th century, and the Arthurian legends are dated around the 5th or 6th, so I've just introduced a plague-like illness. Maybe it's plague, maybe not. I've got a soft spot for Nimueh, if you couldn't tell. I hope this has the right balance of lightheartedness and doom.<strong>

**Please review.  
><strong>


	6. The Dark Arts

**I'm back! Finals are over, party time! Sorry for the long wait, everyone. This may be a bit shorter than other chapters, but it's just to set the tone. I'll try to update regularly, at least once a week.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Dark Arts<strong>

More and more people fall ill. There are further still more deaths. The streets of Camelot are nearly empty, with the people too fearful of going outside. The Lower Town is all nearly deserted, children no longer let outside. Those in the Upper Town is wary and ventured outdoors only if need be. The physician's chambers are filled to the brim with dying and moaning and the sick.

Merlin and Nimueh assist Gaius in any way they can. They've tested the water for poison; there was none. They checked the food, but no poison was there either. So they do what they can: providing water, kind words, and blessings for the ill. If the patients arrive soon enough, before the mysterious marks appear, Nimueh can usually heal them and send them on their way home with orders not to go outside.

Whatever is plaguing Camelot is spreading not through food or water, but through air, permeating the kingdom.

Every book in Gaius's possession had been read, re-read, and tossed across the room in frustration. Whatever the ailment caused by the marks were, there was no remedy to be found in the medical books, nor the spell books.

When Merlin trudges to the front door to leave that evening, he spots Nimueh closely examining the dark marks.

"What is it?" Merlin asks.

"We've been ignorant, look," Nimueh says, calling Merlin closer, "look closely. There are little patterns within the marks, symbols or letters, a message."

"What does it mean?" Merlin asks.

The Priestess scowls, "If I knew that I'd tell you. Go home Merlin, I'll stay with Gaius."

Merlin blinks in surprise and nods, bidding her farewell.

* * *

><p>When he arrives back in the castle, Morgana's still awake, waiting for him. Fabrics are perched precariously on the table, with what was supposed to be part of her wedding dress. Due to the sickness plaguing Camelot, the wedding has been postponed. She's sitting at her desk, writing quickly, and looks up when he enters.<p>

"Merlin," she greets with a soft smile. He leans down and presses a quick kiss on the top of her forehead.

"How are things going?" she asks, watching him pull off his shirt and trousers, kicking the dark fabric to a corner of the room. Would it kill him to pick his clothes up?

"More people are getting sick. Nimeuh thinks she found something, she's staying with Gaius for the night," Merlin sits at the edge of the bed, long gangly legs swinging back and forth.

"Do you think it could be magic? A spell or something?" she suggests, standing up. She rolls up the parchment and blows out the candle.

"Something more powerful than normal magic," he murmurs and leans onto the bed.

Morgana unties her dressing gown and hangs it on the screen, curling next to him on the bed. She brushes his hair off his face and kisses him goodnight.

* * *

><p>Uther is back in his chambers, picking at his breakfast. Gwen, the maidservant, brings him his meals. She doesn't speak much but always offered a soft, pitying smile.<p>

"Why do you do this?" Uther asks her this morning.

"Arthur, the king, asked me to," she answers easily.

"Do you despise me like the rest?" he asks, referring to his children and the people of Camelot.

She turns from her task of making the bed, eyes narrowing.

"You had my father executed." There is a pause and her brow furrows. "No, I do not despise you."

"He was not the sorcerer," Uther says numbly, remembering his actions. So rash, so unreasonable.

"Is there anything else you need?" she asks with a tight smile.

"No, thank you. Please leave."

Gwen nods and scurries out of the room, frowning. What right did Uther Pendragon have to make _her _feel guilty? He was most tyrannical king in all the five kingdoms, and here she is, feeling sorry for him. An old man whose children only held him with disdain. He once had everything, now lost.

* * *

><p>Nimueh throws the book at Merlin, who catches it just in time. They, Arthur, and Morgana are assembled in the meeting hall.<p>

"I found this at the Isle. I knew there were inscriptions, symbols on the marks those people had," she sounds haughty, but worry etches her voice.

"What do those symbols mean?"

"They're a name, a mark of ownership. Souls claimed for the taking. _Helle._ The Underworld, or the Otherworld, whatever you may call it," her voice is low and she looks around the table. Everyone present appears worried, and rightfully so.

"It is the god of Helle doing this. Spreading disease, claiming lives as his slaves," Nimueh finishes.

"All those people, that little boy," Merlin's eyes widen.

"How, though? How is this even possible?" Arthur asks.

The Priestess narrows her eyes, "The veil has been broken, the wall separating the living from the dead has vanished."

"How?" Morgana asks.

Nimueh looks at Morgana and Merlin, face unreadable, "Realities and time have been shattered because of changed destinies."

Morgana immediately clutches Merlin's hand tightly.

"I'm sorry," she actually looks apologetic, "if I had known this would happen," she shakes her head.

"What would happen?" Arthur asks, incredibly confused.

He's interrupted from further interrogation when Sir Leon runs in, "Sire, it's your father."

Arthur stands and glances warily at the warlocks before rushing behind them.

"You did this!" Morgana yells at Nimueh.

"No! I did not. The price for the spell was supposed to be that no one remembered, but somehow, the pair of you had your memories! I didn't know that your remembering and altering history would do this. I was so careful, I wrote out a new prophecy and everything. I am genuinely sorry," Nimueh's blue eyes are wide and worrisome, words defensive. For a moment she looks every bit the young woman's appearance she has, instead of the decades old sorceress lying behind the facade.

Morgana calms down and Merlin's arm wraps around her waist.

"So what does this mean?" Merlin asks. There's no use to yell at the High Priestess now. What's done is done.

"Reality is collapsing, the barriers between the worlds are weak-"

"So we have to ride into hell," Merlin says.

Morgana gasps when Nimueh nods slowly.

"Then so be it," Merlin's blue eyes are steely and cold, so different from their usual tone, that he actually resembles Nimueh.

* * *

><p>Arthur sits by his father, who has taken a seat next to the window, looking out into the courtyard. He stares out absently, shivering. His food has been thrown across the room along with a goblet of water and wine. The wine slides down the stone walls like blood.<p>

"What is the matter?" Arthur asks gently.

"It's the witch. It's her that's doing this," Uther looks extremely paranoid.

"Nimueh is helping us try to find out what's going on, father. Camelot will be safe once more," the king tries to explain.

He nods his head and continues to stare out the window.

* * *

><p><em>It's not brimstone and fire like she imagined. It's dark and so cold she can feel the heat escaping her body. She reaches for Merlin's hand and he holds it tightly. A torch is in each of their hands, leading them to the darkest dimensions of the Underworld. Nimueh is reciting a spell, a chant for protection and Merlin and Morgause join in. Morgana whispers the words, chest constricting. How would a protection spell protect them from the most vile god in all the worlds? <em>

_Her mind immediately fills with despair and lost memories. Merlin poisoning her. Her taking the throne. Her hurting everyone. Aithusa saving her. The final battle at Cammlan. Waking up in the late 20th century with no memories of the past whatsoever. Thinking she was insane because of her visions and memories seeping back. Meeting Merlin again. Falling in love. Making a deal with Nimueh. Waking up in Camelot as if nothing had changed. Meeting a boy with bright blue eyes and _remembering_._ _It was all their fault that they have to do this, walk into hell. They've crossed the veil and are walking further still. A feeling of dread enters her body and she watches as one-by-one her friends and family vanish before her very eyes. She's left alone in her rightful place._

She opens her eyes in a panic, panting and crying. Merlin's arms wrap around her immediately and she cries into his shoulder, chest heaving.

"Please don't leave me," she begs.

"Never again. I promised, didn't I?" he asks her with a soft smile.

She shakes her head, "It was terrible, Merlin. You all left me there, just vanished into thin air."

"That's not going to happen," Merlin says firmly and hugs her closer to him, kissing her hair.

"What if it does?"

"It won't. Where you go, I go," he says with conviction.

They wrap their arms around each other and are unable to sleep for the rest of the night. They leave at dawn.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you for reading and please review. Suggestions? Comments? Anything you want to say?<strong>


	7. Bargaining

**Thank you for the reviews. There's only a couple of chapters left of this. I'm in the midst of writing and planning a modern college AU, if anyone would be interested in reading it.**

* * *

><p><strong>Bargaining<strong>

They're assembled at the stables. Gwen wrings her hands nervously, while Merlin helps Gaius pack potions and healing remedies into a satchel. Nimueh is holding a spell book, appearing to be very agitated. Morgana and Morguase stand together off to the side, speaking quietly.

Arthur is putting on his armour, and Gwen moves to his side to help him, silently tying it in place.

"Thank you, Guinevere," he says in a soft voice.

"Not a problem, sire," she says just as softly.

Arthur smiles a little, and Gwen returns it, tense.

"Come back safely," she says as she steps away.

"Guinevere," Arthur starts, unable to finish due to an interruption by the knights.

"Sire, you cannot go alone," Leon speaks from his place among the knights.

"I'm not alone," he looks to the sorcerer and assembled sorceresses, "if anything should happen to me, my father shall be king once more. There is no heir. I shall leave it for the council to decide-"

"I won't let anything happen to you, Arthur," Merlin says, sliding the satchel onto his shoulder.

"I know," Arthur pats his friend on his arm, "it's dangerous enough. I can't lead an army into hell. It must be us and us alone."

Leon nods reluctantly and the knights, Gaius, and Guinevere, watch the King, Great Warlock, and High Priestesses mount their horses, and trot away, disappearing into the distance.

Dawn barely breaks as they enter the thick of the forest. Morgana's heart quickens and she looks to Merlin, who sits on his horse by her side. He sends her a reassuring look and reaches to hold her hand, when Arthur leads the group to a halt.

"What is it?" Morgause asks, dark eyes scanning the forest filtered with early morning sunlight.

"A noise," Arthur responds.

Nimueh rolls her eyes in annoyance, a common occurrence, and her outstretches her arm, blinding them all with a bright light.

Once the light fades, a deer runs from behind the trees, obviously startled.

"Can we move on, _sire_?" she asks.

Arthur grunts in agreement and the group sets off once more. Merlin glares at Nimueh. It was her magic that did this, created a rift between the otherworld and their own. He and Morgana would never have agreed to her scheme had they known this would be the result.

Magic has a price, and now they have to pay it.

Morgana looks at him with wide green eyes and he offers a small, tight-lipped smile. They must reach the Isle of the Blessed, the only location in the realm with enough magic to open the portal. They must act quickly, for the veil between worlds had thinned, causing death and destruction to spread.

As Nimueh and Gaius had explained, once they cross over, they must close the portal, which is the only way out. They could leave only once they completed their task, or remain in Hell for eternity. No pressure there at all.

"The boat," Merlin finally says after a long silence, "there's only one boat."

"Excellent observation, Merlin," Nimueh snarks.

"It's a genuine concern," Morgana grumbles and Merlin smiles at her.

"One person will remain in the boat and take the others one by one," the High Priestess grits her teeth in annoyance. To think, she was becoming used to these imbeciles.

Morgause shakes her head, frustrated with the company. She likes Nimueh, a lot. She understands her and they have bonded over their powers. She respects her.

She glances at Merlin out of the corner of her eye sceptically. What does her dear sister see in him? Besides his magic, of course? He speaks too quickly and has a sharp wit, and coupled with the fact he's not terribly hideous, Morgause figures that her sister could do a lot worse. In fact, she quite enjoys Morgana and Merlin making rude, acerbic comments to the King. It's great entertainment at the expense of the Pendragon.

Still, there's no time for jokes or bickering. They have a task to complete. Once done, they can go back to their regular lives. Morgana and Merlin can continue planning their wedding, Arthur will continue to undo Uther's bans on magic, Nimueh will go back to sulking around the Isle, and Morgause can start to rebuild the Isle and seek out the magical community to assist them in their powers. It's a new age in Camelot and they'll be damned if some hell god keeps them from enjoying it.

So they keep on, until they reach the Isle, the Isle that is the centre of the Old Religion. Nimueh alternately glares at her company and pities them. The entire point of the Old Religion is to keep death and life in balance, and she ruined that balance by trying to rewrite history, to fix things. She doesn't want this. She wanted Uther gone, nothing more. She did not wish to create a rift and awaken the gods of hell.

After what seems like an eternity, they reach the Isle after lengthy trips back and forth on the boat to get everyone on the other side. Inside, they stand at the slab of marble, the entrance to the spirit world. Nimueh forces them to stand in a circle, hands clasped to one another's. She begins to recite a spell, Morgause and Merlin joining in to make it stronger, more powerful, to protect them in hell. Morgana whispers, barely audible. Her dream contained this moment, but it was different. Perhaps her dream was merely a dream and not the terrible vision she believed it to be.

Nimueh's eyes glow and they are enveloped with a soft, golden light. Their protection. Nimueh nods, satisfied with her handiwork.

"How do we get in?" Arthur asks his magical companions.

Nimueh's eyes narrow and Morgana gasps softly in realisation.

"A blood sacrifice," Nimueh says calmly.

"What?" Arthur asks in confusion, "there must be another way."

"To open the veil, a life must be taken," Nimueh slams the spell book onto the slab.

"Wait!" Merlin shouts, "the veil is thinner than ever. No one needs to die," he tried.

"Then how?" Morgause raises a brow and Morgana clings to Merlin's side in worry. He better not do anything stupid, like sacrifice himself.

"The blood of the most powerful Priests and Priestesses of the Old Religion, cut by a dagger enchanted by Emrys himself," Nimeuh says, the book open in front of her.

Merlin quickly rummages through the satchel, taking out a dagger. It's encrusted with stones and sapphires and rubies and emeralds; it is a gift from Gaius, who prior to their departure had given it to him.

Merlin, Nimueh, Morgause, and Morgana stand before the slab of marble, each one slicing their palms deeply with the dagger, reciting the spell in the book. The deeper their cuts, the more likely the veil would be lifted.

_'**Eala leofu **_**_æðelu þæm gastum befæste ic þe. Alynne þa þeostre þe inne onwunaþ; onginn ende!" (_**_Alas dear family I entrust you to the spirits. Release the darkness that remains inside you; chaos, end!)_

One by one they wipe their hands, marring the marble with their deep red blood. The earth rumbles and Arthur nearly stumbles, his hand already on his sword just in case.

A figure appears before them; it is the The Cailleach, the goddess of death and winter who guards the veil between two worlds. She is old, and looks at the group with sunken eyes. Black and grey swirl behind her in a whirlpool; the portal has been opened.

As they move to enter the portal she regards them sharply, "if you pass, more creatures from beyond will make their way out into the land of the living."

"We shall close the portal," Morgause looks at the goddess with an odd sense of familiarity. Something draws her towards the spirit world, as if she belongs there. She shakes her head, blonde hair falling about.

The Calleach's lips ghost into what could be considered a smile, "Oh, child."

Nimueh's eyes widen in panic, but no one notices. The Calleach recognises Morgause. That means those in the Other World remember. They remember the past. She prepares herself for the worst. She altered time, now she must be punished.

"I shall close the veil," Nimueh says suddenly.

Merlin looks at her sharply, worry etching his features, "How do you propose to that?"

"Use all of my magic to keep it sealed. I can fight off any spirits trying to get through, go on without me," her cold blue eyes look concerned for the briefest moment, before she is stoic once more.

"No. _You _are the High Priestess, you and Morgause are the most powerful," Merlin argues and Morgana nods.

"No, Emrys. You are the most powerful," Nimueh smiles lightly, and she looks so incredibly young despite her actual age.

So Morgana, Morgause, Arthur, and Merlin step through the portal, Nimueh following. The former four set off ahead, already on a different plane of reality. Merlin turns around to look at Nimueh, who smiles sadly.

"Merlin," she says suddenly.

"Yes?"

"We could've ruled the world," she jokes, and Merlin smiles.

"Thank you. For giving Morgana and I another chance," he says quietly.

"My pleasure. Look after the kingdom, Merlin. Look after Gaius," she says it as an order but it is a mere request. Merlin nods and two pairs of blue eyes meet. They could've ruled the world, but it wasn't to be. He turns away and catches up with the others, leaving Nimueh to make her eyes glow and fight off anyone trying to get through.

She smirks. What a way to go.

* * *

><p>The group of five has been reduced to four. Arthur is surprisingly quiet, staring in wonder at the assembled spirits and creatures.<p>

"So, where is this hell god?" the King asks.

"We're not in hell, Arthur. We're merely in the Spirit World," Merlin answers.

"We have another portal to pass," Morgause says, walking ahead of the King. It's as if she knows the way by heart; the path entrenched in her memory somehow.

They pass by spirits, mostly harmless and indifferent to their presence. The further they venture into the Spirit World, the colder it becomes. Merlin reaches for Morgana's hand, without looking to see if she has stretched out her own. She has, and takes his in hers.

All the warmth in their bodies seem to be escaping, their breath becomes shallow and visible in the darkness engulfing. Morgause shivers and Arthur remains silent. Though he is King, this is one thing he has never been prepared for.

"We are here," Morgause says. She shakes her head and holds her hand in front of her.

"Allow us entrance into the depths of hell," she whispers, to everyone's surprise, in English. It isn't a spell. It is a request.

A doorway appears from the air, large, iron and black. Morgana's heart pounds erratically in her chest and her spare hand rests on her sword.

They cross into Hell, and it's not fire and brimstone. It's cold, and dark. There is no light save for the faint light streaming through the doorway. The iron door shuts to a close, eliminating all of the light there. Morgana fights a yelp, and Merlin's eyes glow, a small ball of light in his hands. He blows on it, making the little ball fly up ahead of them, illuminating their path.

They all gasp at what they see. Tormented spirits, the walking dead, all in chains and shackles.

The protection Nimueh had cast over them begins to fade. All pleasant memories from their lives are fed on, drawn from them. In their place are terrible remnants of the past they'd rather forget.

Morgana's eyes widen in terror as she sees herself attack Gwen, kill countless innocent townspeople, torture Merlin, fight Arthur, and stage yet more attacks on her home. She shakes her head and turns to Merlin who seems to be in a daze. He sees himself kill Nimueh, poison Morgana, lie to Arthur time and time again. Morgause's brown eyes are blank and she looks like she's about to collapse. For all her strength, she has committed terrible crimes in her past life, and is now being shown every wrong she has ever done.

Morgana reaches her arm out to steady her sister, whose knees buckle.

Arthur's blue eyes meet Merlin's and the King's eyes narrow. His head aches and he chokes out,

"I remember," he frowns. Another life. An evil, vengeance-seeking Morgana. A lying Merlin.

"I too, remember," Morgause looks at Arthur apologetically, "I am sorry."

Arthur nods, not looking at anyone but Merlin.

"You remembered that life," he says quietly, "yet you did not tell me?"

"No one could remember or else terrible things would happen. We wanted a better life for us all, this time around. I did it to protect you," Merlin says, pained.

"Terrible things _are_ happening. We're in hell, Merlin," Arthur glares at him.

His glare softens and he looks confused. His mind is filled with strange tall buildings, wearing a strange uniform. Loud blasts from…rifles? Bombs? He sees Merlin sitting, wearing a similar uniform, holding him in his arms, face streaked with tears.

"_I couldn't protect you," Merlin cries, "I always find you too late. You're gone, every single time I finally find you."_

Arthur looks up at Merlin, jaw set despite its inclination to quiver. Morgause is leaning on Morgana, energy sucked out of her very being. Arthur reaches forward and against his usual judgment, hugs Merlin. They have lived so many lives without each other he will take advantage of being near his friend once more. Arthur marvels at how incredibly tiny Merlin seems, though Merlin is taller.

"I'm sorry, Arthur," Merlin mumbles into the King's armour.

"Me too, Merlin," he nods and pulls away, patting Merlin on the shoulder.

The ball of light Merlin conjured grows brighter, larger. Morgause stands up straighter,

"We must go on," she says firmly.

This is just the beginning. The further they descend into hell, the colder their hearts will grow. She should know, it was her final resting place after Morgana sacrificed her. Morgana holds her still, and Morgause smiles sadly at her younger sister. So much pain caused was because of her. Well no more. She will end this.

The ball of light leads them down the rocky, high underground cliff, and they follow, trying not to near the edge too much.

They walk for hours, and finally reach their destination. Helle, the god of Hell, sits on a throne made of skull. He does not resemble a monster. His face could be considered handsome, but the aura he gives off is dastardly. He wears a cloak made of the flesh of his victims. A twisted smile crosses his thin lips.

"Welcome, weary travellers," he greets, not moving to stand.

"We have come to request you stop inflicting illness on the people of Camelot," Arthur says in his 'kingly' voice.

"Request denied," Helle says in a bored tone.

"I am King of Camelot," Arthur snarls.

"You are king of a mortal realm. I am the god of Hell," the creature smirks, "your power holds no weight here."

"He may not have any power here, but I do," Merlin steps forward, arms outstretched. "Either leave the world of the living be or I shall force you."

"I am the god of death and ruler of this land. I can claim lives if need be," he scoffs.

"Children have died. Innocent people have died," Merlin says.

"That's what they do. They live and die. I merely speed up the process. Tell me, Emrys, have you not ended the lives of other beings?" he smirks once more, "or you, Lady Morgana?"

Morgana glares at the god with a steely look, green eyes frosting.

"I have asked for forgiveness, and was granted another chance," she says calmly.

"Ah. It is this chance you've been given that let me create this havoc. It's so much fun," he grins like a madman.

"How can we get you to stop?" Morgause asks quietly.

"Ah, High Priestess. So good to see you again. Pray tell, where is the orchestrator of all this?" he asks curiously.

"She is at the veil, keeping your evil away from our world," Arthur speaks up, surprising everyone.

The god smiles, too widely.

Merlin sends a ball of fire towards him, so supremely frustrated that his powers act beyond his control. The fireball is waved away with a thin, skeletal hand.

"Time has been rewritten, altered. Magic has a price. You must restore everything to its rightful state for me to stop. I offer you a solution, for I am not heartless nor cruel."

"What?" Morgana asks sceptically.

"You go return to whence you came, before striking this deal with Nimueh," he offers.

"And you'll stop. Everyone will be safe?" Arthur asks. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad.

The god laughs, "You fool. Nothing can ever stop me. This world as you know it shall cease to exist, wiped from existence, and the old Camelot will be restored."

"No," Merlin shakes his head, "request denied."

His eyes glow and the ground shakes. He begins to speak, voice low and dark. The hell god jumps from his throne, it shattering behind him. Morgana and Morgause join hands with Merlin, their eyes glowing as well. A gust of wind rushes through hell, and Arthur wields his sword, aiming it at Helle.

"No, you idiots! You will destroy the balance! Magic has a price. A life for a life!" he shouts at them, summoning his undead minions. They run towards the people of Camelot. Morgana and Morgause unsheath their swords and help Arthur slice through them.

Merlin keeps his golden eyes fixed on Helle, and while chaos and fighting goes on, they stare each other down.

"Oh, Emrys. You mean to do good, but bring only destruction," he coos.

"Not as much destruction as you," Merlin knocks him back with a mere tilt of his head.

Helle goes flying, crashing into a stone wall. He stands up, incredibly spry, and cracks his neck.

"You may be the greatest warlock, but I am a god!" he sneers, a staff appearing from nowhere. He taps it on the ground, creating cracks instantaneously.

The floor breaks open, creating a rift. Morgana, Arthur, and Morgause fall away into a heap.

"NO!" Merlin shouts, running toward the edge, seeing them in a heap at the bottom of hell, unconscious.

"Is this what you wanted, Emrys? Your second chance at this life is just as doomed as the first. You cannot rewrite time and prophecies. That is the work of gods, not _warlocks_," Helle cracks his neck.

Merlin pants heavily, livid. This can't have been all for nothing. Everything had been going so well, and now…

His eyes glow golden once more and he roars with words unfamiliar to his own ears, but innate in him. His magic is inborn. He doesn't _need_ spells.

Clouds gather in the darkness of hell, thunder and lightening lighting the black sky. Helle looks up in shock.

"You will leave Camelot and the world of the living alone, or fear my wrath," his voice is not his own and lightning strikes his minions, his throne, all incinerated into dust.

"Give them back," Merlin nods toward the three, "_now_."

Helle regards him with cold black eyes, "Make. Me."

The lightening hits Helle, who seizes from the current. The flesh cloak becomes flayed and singed from the attack, and the god falls to a heap on the ground in front of Merlin.

"How?" Helle croaks. How could a mere warlock injure him so easily? He stands, holding his ground in his realm.

The iron door appears suddenly, and is pulled open. A very angry, irate, and bloodied up High Priestess stalked into hell as if she owned the place. Merlin's lips quirked into a small grin.

"You!" she screams at Helle, "will leave Camelot alone or I will _end_ you."

"Hell needs a god. It is part of the balance of life and death, balance of time," he grunts.

"You have no claim over the lives of Camelot's citizens. The veil is thin, but I can fix that," Nimueh scowls.

"Then _fix i_t, and I shall rule my realm in peace," Helle matches her scowl. He was merely taking advantage of the prospect of more lives.

"First the Pendragons," Nimueh orders. Helle rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers.

Morgana, Morgause, and Arthur are awake and standing next to Merlin. Merlin lets out a sigh of relief and Morgana throws her arms around his neck.

"Let's go," Nimueh orders, "we have a deal, Helle," she snarls.

* * *

><p>They are at the Isle of the Blessed once more, standing in front of the portal.<p>

"How are you going to stop it?" Merlin asks what they are all thinking.

"By going back," Nimueh says, "there needs to be a sacrifice, a life to end this madness. It is my fault this began. I shall end it."

"No," Morgana shakes her head in sympathy, "you can't."

Nimueh smiles fleetingly, perhaps the first true smile to cross her lips in decades.

"Rule well, Arthur Pendragon," she looks at her nephew before turning to Merlin, "take care of them, Merlin. _All_ of them," she finishes.

Merlin knows she means Gaius and nods slightly. She in turn nods at Merlin and then shares a sad look with Morgause.

The blonde sorceress steps forward and takes Nimueh's hand in her own, "Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Morgause," she runs her thumb over the back of Morgause's hand. She always liked Morgause. She was a fast learner and ruthless leader. A bit like her. A bit too much like her.

Nimeuh let go, Morgause's hand dropping away. The High Priestess of the Old Religion waves her hand, opening the veil. She steps forward and looks back over her shoulder with a final genuine smile, and disappears into the Other World.

* * *

><p><strong>So, they reached a bargain. Nimueh's life to stop the rest of Camelot from being slaughtered. I've always liked Nimueh, and feel like she was always more than a typical big bad. Please review. <strong>


	8. And All Was Well

**This will be the last chapter, followed by an epilogue. I hope it's been enjoyable, and thank you so much for reading and leaving such wonderful reviews. I'm currently working on a modern university era AU, if anyone's interested.**

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><p><strong>And All Was Well<br>**

"Where's Nimueh?" Gaius asks after the whole ordeal. Morgana and Morgause have retired to Morgana's chambers to rest, and Arthur is visiting his father. Merlin is at the old physician's, sitting solemnly.

"She sacrificed herself, Gaius. She sacrificed herself to save us, to save Camelot," Merlin says quietly, watching the old man age a few more years right before his eyes.

"Oh," Gaius's jaw shakes, ever so slightly, and then his face is impassive once more.

"I was wrong about her," Merlin sights, burying his head in his hands, "I should've saved her."

"What's done is done, Merlin. No need to dwell," Gaius pats him on the shoulder and shuffles towards a book. Anything to busy himself.

"I'm sorry," Merlin apologises sadly.

"As am I," Gaius says. That is all he will say on the matter. Nimueh is his past, an old friend who had turned cold and bitter. He wasn't able to save her, despite her lingering humanity. So she saved herself, in death.

* * *

><p>"The witch is gone?" Uther's cold eyes are twinkling after Arthur gives him a report, ensuring Camelot's safety from the hell god.<p>

"Yes," Arthur frowns slightly, "she wasn't a witch. She was a High Priestess."

"Oh, magic is magic. It causes evil, Arthur," Uther goes off on one of his anti-sorcery spiels.

"Father!" Arthur shouts, "without magic all of Camelot would be dead! Nimueh died so that our kingdom can live," he shakes his head.

Uther purses his lips.

"I see you still stand by your choice of legalising magic," he says shortly.

"Yes, father," Arthur nods, "Merlin is an excellent help, as are Morgana and Morgause."

"Merlin," Uther frowns, "corrupted Morgana with magic. They will betray you, just wait."

"Enough, father! I can see you are unwell. I will allow you to rest," Arthur says, gliding out of the room, leaving the former, mad king alone.

* * *

><p>The ill are miraculously healed, and Arthur gives a speech, honouring Nimueh's bravery and praising the good magic can do if in the right hands. Morgana and Merlin stand behind him, smiling slightly. Yes, they saved Camelot, but lost a mentor of sorts. Despite her wrongdoings, Nimueh was not evil, simply misguided.<p>

Uther watches the speech from his chambers in isolation, not having the energy to argue. He hopes his son has made the right decision, that they will not be betrayed.

* * *

><p>The wedding nears closer, though no one seems to be in the mood. The officiator of the ceremony is dead, never to be seen again. Morgause volunteers to perform the ceremony, to bind Merlin and Morgana's magic for eternity. The pair gladly accept and send out invitations with a later date.<p>

Preparations are underway and Gwen busies herself with flowers and ribbons and helping Morgana as best she can. Morgana tells her to relax, to take a long lunch, or to take the evening off early. She was a future Queen, after all, though Morgana couldn't let her know that.

Merlin eagerly awaited his mother's arrival in Camelot, wondering if he shouldn't just pop over to Ealdor and bring her himself.

"Stop being such a girl's petticoat, Merlin, she'll be fine," Arthur grumbles as he tries to write an amendment, Merlin's pacing distracting him.

"There are bandits in the forest! Thieves!" Merlin frowns.

Arthur fights a grin and tosses a parchment at Merlin, "I promise you, Merlin. She's in good hands. Here. Read this."

Merlin stops it from falling with a mere glance and picks it up. He reads it, brow furrowing.

"You want to reinstate the old festivals?" Merlin asks in confusion.

"To show, er, solidarity and acceptance," Arthur scratches the back of his head.

Merlin grins and Arthur matches it with one of his own.

* * *

><p>Hunith finally arrives in Camelot, surprise in tow.<p>

"Mother!" Merlin flies out of the castle, Morgana following him, dress in her hands.

"Merlin!" Hunith wraps her arms around her son, kissing the top of his head. Her little boy is a grown man, and she is so incredibly proud. She releases him and hugs Morgana, who wraps her arms around her almost-mother-in-law. "Morgana, dear, being engaged makes you even prettier. I didn't think that possible," she pats the side of her future daughter's face.

"Oh, Hunith, we're so glad you're here," Morgana smiles brightly.

Merlin has already taken Hunith's sparse luggage, and she turns to her son, hand still in Morgana's.

"Wait, I have a surprise," Hunith smiles.

"What is it?" Morgana asks.

"Not what. Who," Hunith says.

From behind the horse comes Lancelot, grinning broadly. Merlin stares at his friend, running up to shake his hand.

"You got the invitation!" Merlin said.

"I ran into your mother on the way, so I decided to accompany her," Lancelot grins.

"Arthur sent you?" Merlin asks.

"Who else?" Lancelot claps Merlin on the back. Merlin grins like an idiot. His mother, fiancée, and closest friend are all here. All that's missing his father. His smile fades, ever so slightly.

He doesn't know his father in this world. For all he knows, he's dead, killed by bandits. He takes a shaky breath and smiles again. He has his mother and his friends and Morgana. Everything will be fine.

* * *

><p>Arthur sits in his chambers, writing a speech. A toast to his foster sister and former manservant. It's extremely difficult. What can he say? They both have a dark sense of humour? They enjoying teasing him and snarking at him every chance they get? He smiles slightly and writes something down.<p>

There's a knock on his door, and he answers it. It's Morgana, who is smiling brightly, engagement obviously suiting her.

"Yes?" he asks, putting the quill down.

"It's nearly time for the feast," she snorts at his lack of proper attire.

"Already?" he asks.

"I know you lose track of time when Merlin's not here to remind you, or clothe you, or feed you," Morgana smirks, "but really, Arthur, you're an adult."

Arthur glares at her, "I'm king."

"A king should be able to dress himself," Morgana opens his cupboard and picks out a red top and black trousers, to be paired with his leather jacket.

Arthur frowns, remembering the morning that found him wandering the corridors of the palace in his sleep clothes because Merlin couldn't be bothered to leave Morgana's side.

Morgana tilts her head in concern, "What's wrong."

"Nothing. Just getting used to changes. Me being king. You marrying _Merlin _of all people," Arthur shakes his head.

Morgana's nostrils flare.

"I love him, Arthur. He's the best man I know. Don't you dare say I deserve someone better, or with status. Don't be another Uther," she glares icily at him.

"He's the best man I know, too," Arthur looks at her with an unreadable expression, "I'm happy for you, just…"

What is he? Confused? Shocked? Merlin always seemed to be uninterested in women, like a naïf child. So Arthur was more shocked when he found out about the affair compared to the magic. He smiled. Merlin is a good man, always helping him, always acting in his best interests, always being there for him, without being asked.

In a way, if feels as if his closest friend is being taken away, by Morgana, no less. He already had to share his friendship with Lancelot once before, and now that he has returned, Merlin seems to be spending all his time with him instead of Arthur. He doesn't want to share his best friend.

"You're jealous," Morgana's eyes narrow, lips quirking into a smirk.

"What? No," Arthur stands, crossing his arms.

"Merlin will always be there for you, married to me or not. You two are destined to build Albion, together, Arthur," she smiles gently and leaves the room, leaving the king to prepare himself for the feast.

* * *

><p>The dining hall is filled to the brim with nobles and courtiers. Arthur sits at the centre of the long table, Morgana on one side, Merlin on the other. Hunith sits next to Merlin, Lancelot next to her, and Sir Leon next to him. Gwen, after much convincing, sits at Morgana's side, officially the maid of honour at the wedding.<p>

"Attention," Arthur says, standing, crown glowing on his head, "I would like to propose a toast, to the Lady Morgana and the Priest of the Old Religion, Merlin. May they live long, happy lives," he raises his goblet, "to Merlin and Morgana."

"To Merlin and Morgana," the hall choruses loudly.

Some are still confused by the match, how a Lady and a (former) manservant fell in love and received the king's blessing. Of course, many explained that to themselves that Arthur had always been particularly fond of Merlin, and for good reason, seeing as how he'd saved Arthur and Camelot countless times. They also are unaware of the rather sexual nature of the engaged pair's relationship, but that is for no one to know, anyway. Others still are more confused that the loving ward of Uther and the kind young man both have magic.

Nevertheless, they have, for the most part, accepted the union and are excited about the wedding. It will be small, with only the bride and groom's family and closest friends at the Isle, though the entirety of Camelot is invited to the feast afterwards.

Once the Lady Morgana is wed, perhaps the King can focus on finding himself a bride, for it has been a long time since Camelot has had a Queen.

They drink, they eat, they drink entirely too much. Merlin and Morgana agreed earlier that a feast would be better than a hen party and bachelor party would be. They begin to regret that decision as Arthur decides it is time for dancing and pulls a beet-red Gwen to her feet. Lancelot watches them, jaw set, but says nothing. He and Sir Leon speak about fighting techniques, and he seems to forget that the King is dancing with the girl he loves so much.

Morgana slides over into Arthur's empty seat and takes Merlin's hand in her own.

"Care to get away from the noise?" she purrs into his ear.

"You're trying to sully my reputation, my lady," Merlin replies with a small smile.

"You know me well," she grins and they stand, ready to leave, until Morgana notices the pleading look on Gwen's face. She lets out a sigh and Merlin knows what they have to do.

Merlin interrupts Arthur and Gwen's dance, taking the small woman into his arms, dancing with her, while Morgana dances with her brother.

"Morgana," Arthur grumbles.

"You don't want her to feel uncomfortable, do you?" she snaps at him.

Across the room, Gwen is expressing her thanks.

"He's had a bit too much to drink," Merlin chuckles and Gwen relaxes a little.

"He's just trying to be nice. He's really happy," Gwen says, and Merlin fights the urge to tell her of her impending future as Queen.

"Right," Merlin nods.

The night goes on, and Lancelot and Gwen share a dance, a disgruntled king watching from afar. Gwen laughs lightly and Lancelot's eyes are bright. Merlin returns from the dance he shared with his mother and plops down next to Arthur. Morgana is chatting with Sir Leon and his date for the evening, Lady Elizabeth.

"What's the matter?" Merlin asks the sullen king, "it's my pre-wedding party. Cheer up."

"Nothing's the matter Merlin," he smiles slightly at his friend.

"If you insist," Merlin pops a grape from his plate into his mouth.

"How can you be so relaxed?" Arthur asks suddenly. If he were the one getting married, he'd be terrified.

"I'm marrying the woman I love. I've been in hell, Arthur. Marriage will be easy enough to manage," Merlin says simply.

"Yes, but you're marrying _Morgana_," Arthur frowns.

Merlin looks offended for a moment, and Arthur backpedals, confiding in Merlin what he could not tell Morgana.

"I'm afraid she'll hurt you, Merlin. When we were there, in the Other World, I saw what she did to you," Arthur's frown deepened.

"She's changed, Arthur. She's sorry, and she was never evil to begin with. She was so alone… if only we hadn't pushed her away…" he trails off, thinking of how much time they had lost, how lucky they are to have another chance.

Arthur claps Merlin on the back, essentially giving his blessing once more. The wedding would be in two days, and everything would be right in Camelot.

* * *

><p>The Isle of the Blessed, usually bare and stark and ominous is decorated with roses and wildflowers. Gwen has truly outdone herself. Beautiful red, pink, and white roses decorate the aisle Morgana is supposed to walk down, and Merlin conjured up seats for their family and friends to sit on. Gwen stands next on the other side of Morgause, waiting for her best friend. Lancelot, Merlin's best man, and Merlin stand next to Morgause, who has a sacred book of magic open in front of her.<p>

She smiles softly, happy for her sister, but sad that Nimueh was not there. Gaius and Hunith sit together, beaming with joy.

Merlin is wearing his finest clothes, a deep blue shirt with dark, well-fitting trousers, and freshly shined boots. A black coat tops his outfit.

Arthur walks down the aisle in his kingly wear, Morgana at his side. She's smiling brightly, wearing a flowing silver gown, veil covering her face. They reach Merlin, and Arthur moves off to the side, sitting down next to Gaius and Hunith. Morgana has no family besides him, but she'll now gain Hunith as a mother. He smiles.

Merlin takes Morgana's hand and squeezes it, both of them smiling like fools.

Morgause fought a smile and began reading.

"We are gathered here, on this sacred site, to unite the magic of the Lady Morgana, High Priestess, and Merlin, High Priest, of the Old Religion. In marriage their powers will grow and complement each other, binding them for life, for eternity, even after death. Never shall they be parted, their souls and magic bound together. Does anyone have any objections?" Morgause finished, glaring at anyone who dare threaten her sister's happiness.

"Now, if you'll hand over the rings," Morgause looks to Lancelot, who hands her the rings.

Morgause takes then and sets them on the book. Her eyes glow and the words on the page seemingly seep into the rings, which also glow brightly.

She hands them to Morgana and Merlin, who exchange them, whispering quiet vows.

"I love you, and I will always love you," Merlin whispers, slipping the still glowing ring on Morgana's finger.

"I love you, and I will love you for ever more," Morgana murmurs, slipping a glowing ring onto Merlin's finger.

The glowing rings brighten, nearly blinding them, and fade into the golden bands they are.

Merlin moves the veil away from Morgana's face, and green meets blue.

"You may kiss the bride," Morgause says.

Merlin and Morgana's lips meet gently, and their friends and family burst into applause. The High Priest and Priestess of the Old Religion are finally married.

* * *

><p>The whole of Camelot is seemingly at the palace. The banquet hall is bursting at the seams with well-wishers. The wine is flowing and more people are outside on the courtyard, celebrating the union of the Lady of Camelot and the Warlock. Those without magic and with magic alike enjoy each other's company, dancing and singing outside.<p>

Uther watches the festivities from his chambers, still feeling betrayed about the entire ordeal. Morgana had invited him, and like the stubborn man he is, he refused. He truly was happy for them, he just couldn't bring himself to be in a room full of people who hated him.

Merlin and Morgana walked through the courtyard, shaking hands and thanking the people graciously for their congratulations.

Once in the dining hall, the dancing begins before they have a chance to sit. Merlin and Morgana hold each other, gliding around the floor.

"So, we're married," Merlin smiles.

"Took us long enough," Morgana grins up happily, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Was it worth it? The betrayal, the hurt?" Merlin suddenly turns serious.

Morgana is quiet for a moment, obviously trying to find the right words.

"I'd do it again if in the end, we'd be together," she answers.

Merlin lets out a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding, and kisses her soundly.

After another spin across the floor, they are seated next to one another, Arthur on their other side.

He rises for a speech.

"Welcome, everyone," he nods at the commoners and courtiers, the sorcerers and those without magic, who are mingling without conflict, "I'd like to say something, about Morgana and Merlin. They belong together."

There is a collective 'aw' from the crowd.

"They are kind, compassionate, fiercely protective of the ones they love, incredibly stubborn, and so incredibly rude to _me, _what with their twisted humour,that it makes sense they would find companions for life in one another."

Everyone laughs while Morgana and Merlin mockingly glare, looking offended.

"To Merlin and Morgana! They deserve the best in life, and may they be together forever," Arthur finishes.

"To Merlin and Morgana!" the crowd roars, whooping with cheers.

The night goes on, dancing loud, goblets overflowing, and food plentiful. It's just like the feast before, but more rambunctious and far more jovial.

"You should stay, in the palace, there are so many rooms," Morgana speaks to Hunith while Lancelot dances with Gwen and Arthur and Merlin talk on the other side of the table.

"I couldn't, Morgana. Ealdor is my home," Hunith shakes her head.

"Yes, but Merlin is here. Who do you have left there?" Morgana frowns, "Please? At least think about it before you leave next week."

"I will consider it," Hunith agrees. Her daughter in-law was quite the persuasive one.

The feast lasts into the wee hours of the morning, guests not heading home until two, perhaps three, in the morning. Lancelot is staying with Gaius (having refused a place at the palace), so he heads back with the old man, walking Gwen home before retiring to the physician's chambers.

Hunith is staying in the castle, and pecks Merlin and Morgana on the forehead before heading to her room for the time being. Morgause disappears into thin air after wishing the happy couple well and bidding them farewell.

Arthur drags himself up to his chambers, falling asleep without changing into his nightclothes, drool marring the pillow.

Merlin and Morgana retire to _their _chambers, likely the only ones left awake in the castle. It's like Arthur's coronation all over again.

They shut the door behind them, shedding their clothes quickly, crawling into bed, kissing fervently as if they had never been together before.

Morgana laughs as he kisses her neck, making him smile against her skin.

"We're married," she sighs dreamily.

"We're married," he mumbles, kissing her.

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><p><strong>One more chapter left. Thank you for sticking with me through this. Please review.<br>**


	9. Epilogue

**Thank you for the reviews. This is the last chapter, and just thank you so much for reading and taking the time to do so and leave reviews. I'm in the midst of writing a modern university AU, and will post once I have it written it out in its entirety. Thank you again.**

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><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

Marriage is followed with two children. A boy with dark hair like both his parents and his mother's green eyes and a girl with curly dark tresses and her father's blue eyes. For a long time, they are the joy of Camelot, for the Lady and Court Adviser of Camelot have given the people an honorary prince and princess.

Without Morgana's constant threats as in her past life, Camelot flourishes and Albion is united sooner than before. Thanks to Nimueh's sacrifice and the new life they have been given, Mordred does not wish to claim Camelot for himself. Instead he stays with the Druids and sometimes Morgause, learning magic and how to heal others. Freya has found her way back to the Druids, where Morgause frees her of her curse. There she stays with them, expanding her powers, and learning how to control water, for no matter the life, she is the Lady of the Lake.

Uther is not killed by Morgana. No. He nearly has a heart attack when Arthur professes his love for Gwen, the handmaiden. He concedes reluctantly, at this point only wanting his children to be happy. He adores his two grandchildren already, and he's certain that more grandchildren, this time from his son, would be just as lovely as Morgana and Merlin's children.

Morgana and Merlin are obviously thrilled and the wedding is quickly planned (because heaven help them if Morgana is with child again and unable to wear her beautiful dresses). She isn't, not ever again, and she can wear all the dresses she wants comfortably.

The wedding takes place in the grand hall of the palace, with guests from all over Albion. Gwen's brother, Elyan, comes with a guest, Percival, a new knight, in tow. The pair of them spend the evening staring at Princess Mithian, a guest from a neighbouring kingdom, but she is far too enamoured with Sir Gwaine. Sir Lancelot, now a knight, never strays to far from the Druid girl, Freya. It's as if he knows her from somewhere and wants to know why. He knows that Merlin and Morgana had helped her escape, years ago. He likes her. She's polite and funny and incredibly pretty. Guinevere is Queen now, and he will not interfere with true love.

Hunith is there with Balinor, who made his way back to Ealdor (for in this life, he was not killed). Merlin's family is finally reunited and he is glad his parents can meet their grandchildren.

The wedding is beautiful and the King and Queen of Camelot are beaming and glowing and just about the happiest people on the entire planet at that moment.

The feast is enormous. Gigantic. There are enough guests to fill up every room of the palace. It is the first real royal wedding Camelot has seen in over twenty years, even counting the wedding of the Lady Morgana and Merlin the Warlock and Court Adviser three years prior.

There is dancing, singing, and a great deal of drinking. Gwaine falls over, repeatedly. Princess Mithian chats with Morgana, who has little Balinor in her arms, watching as Merlin twirls about with little Nimueh Lynelle, affectionately called Ella mostly because Uther refused to call her the same name as the 'witch'. Nevermind that the woman had essentially saved all of Camelot.

"You must be thrilled," Mithian drinks wine from a goblet, and Morgana nods.

"I have everything I've ever wanted. Gwen's been more than a servant. She's always been a friend, and now she's like a sister," Morgana grins broadly, "Arthur finally saw what was in front of him all along."

"And you have this little one," Mithian smiles at Balinor, who smiles back, examining the Princess's face.

"Ella won't let poor Merlin sit down," Morgana laughs at the sight of the little two year old refuse to be set on the ground. Merlin picks her up again, spinning around clumsily toward the bride and groom, past them, and towards the knights' table.

Morgana looks around. Hunith and Balinor are dancing closely together, the knights are drinking, Freya, Morgause, Mordred, and the Druids sit at a table, pleased and confused with their invitations. Uther interrupts a dance between the bride and groom, taking Queen Guinevere into his arms and actually smiles. He likes the girl well enough. She was always kind to him, despite his atrocities.

"I am sorry, Guinevere, for my past actions," he says sincerely, referring to her father's execution.

Gwen's face is stony and she nods curtly, "I know."

They will move on and try to be a family, for Arthur's sake.

* * *

><p>Camelot has a prince, Thomas, named after his deceased grandfather. Ella and Balinor are thrilled to have a cousin and the three grow up as thick as thieves. They play together. They fight together. They get into trouble together. Balinor and Thomas run away from Ella whenever she wields a sword, together.<p>

* * *

><p>Everyone grows old, withers away, and dies eventually. The Golden Age of Camelot lasts an incredibly long time, for generations and generations of subjects. The rule of Arthur and Guinevere lasts for fifty years, until the King and Queen die within weeks of each other. Thomas is crowned King at the age of forty-nine. His wife, Eleanor, and his children, Arthur II and Amelia, are now Queen, and the prince and princess, respectively.<p>

Merlin is still court adviser, now looking more and more like Dragoon the Great. Morgana too is old and gray. Balinor, Hunith, Uther, and Gaius are long gone, dwelling somewhere in the Other World.

Freya died young. Far too young. She and Lancelot had been married for five years and had a little girl, only three years old, when Freya died, her spirit returning to the lake it was meant for. Lancelot passed ten years ago, at the age of sixty-two, leaving behind his only child, ending up in the Lake once more.

Gwaine, despite his abhorrence for royalty and titles, ended up a prince, wed to Mithian. The people's prince, he was. Percival married Blanchefleur, a lady of the court whom he met at Gwaine's wedding. Elyan married the Lady Annabel, while Sir Leon married Lady Genevieve. All were married within four years of one another, their children growing up to be best friends.

One by one, Merlin and Morgana's friends died. It wasn't in a terrible battle like before. This time they are taken away by old age and heartache and their grown-up children are left to mourn, and then move on with their lives because now they have children of their own to care for.

Ella and Balinor are concerned for their parents, who continue to advise Thomas in laws and such, allowing Camelot's golden age to continue.

Then one day, they don't leave their chambers. A maid finds them in bed, holding each other, seemingly asleep. They are not.

The last living remnants of the start of the Golden Age are gone, and it is the end of an era. They lasted only a year after the deaths of the King and Queen, their closest friends.

Balinor and Ella continue to advise the new King, but it's not the same. The Knights of the Roundtable, the High Priests and Priestesses, and the King and Queen are now all dead.

* * *

><p>She opens her eyes, light flitting in through the windows. She buries her head into her husband's shoulder, earning a sleepy chuckle from the man himself.<p>

"Morgana, get up," he kisses her hair and she opens her eyes, green and tired.

"Nope," she closes her eyes again, settling on her stomach.

He sits up, yawning. He takes the watch from the dresser and slides it onto his wrist. Morgana takes his hand and tries to pull him back to bed.

"Morgana," he sighs, trying to hold back a laugh.

"Come back to bed," she mumbles.

"Arthur's waiting for us at the café for brunch, remember," he leans over and kisses her cheek, and rubs her back.

"Can't we just send the kids?" she finally sits up, pouting.

"They're ten, Morgana. We can't let them take the tube on their own," Merlin rolls his eyes.

Ella and Balinor were most definitely awake, the sound of cartoons coming from the living room.

"Arthur can send a car," she grumbles.

Merlin snorts and gets out of bed, walking towards the cupboard to find some trousers and a shirt for the day.

"The blue one," Morgana says immediately, "with the red scarf."

"You, my lady, are too settled in your old ways," Merlin dresses quickly and smirks at his wife.

"I like familiarity," she shrugs.

"Good. Because you're stuck with me for eternity, remember?"

"I'd never forget," Morgana grins, sliding into jeans and a blouse before kissing Merlin softly.

"Eternity," he whispers and she nods.

"Eternity," she smiles brightly, ready to live another day with the family she loves so much, the family she didn't get to have before.

It was their wedding in Camelot that bound them together. It was Nimueh's spell and later sacrifice that let them live a few more lives on earth together, and kept them together as a family for whenever they were in the Spirit World. The modern world is more peaceful than it had been. A longer Arthurian rule in Camelot ended up causing harmony in all of England, which spread throughout Europe, and the rest of the world. Now Arthur is Prime Minister in this life, the world war-free. Merlin and Morgana are still his advisers, the Great Dragon's words from so long ago finally making sense.

Every now and then, Morgana would look to the sky, and silently thank Nimueh for everything, for letting them right their wrongs, for making amends about their regrets, for letting Merlin be beside her every step of the way.

* * *

><p><strong>And that's all, folks! Thank you for reading, and please review if you'd like.<strong>


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